Mass Effect - Awakening
by Praetus
Summary: It has been give months since the Reaper invasion was halted above Earth - the Normandy has returned, her crew beginning to scatter to the winds. Shepard is gone and tensions are starting to show among the recently allied races. Garrus finds himself among the rubble of a ruined Earth, charged with keeping a fragile peace. Among the echoes of war, what else might he find?
1. Chapter 1 - Assignment

**Awakening - Chapter one - ****Assignment**

He had to admit: it was a fantastic view.

Soaked in blood, scattered with the debris of friend and foe alike; fires the size of continents raging below.

But it was still fantastic.

Five months since the war had been won. Five months away. Stranded in an unmarked system in the "local cluster" as the Humans called it. _Five months_ of not knowing. But now, watching the Turian fleet drift across the expanse, battered but not beaten, he allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction. Garrus Vakarian, Second to the Primarch of Palaven, General of the 9th Company of Turian Volunteers, turned from the viewport and walked back towards the briefing room. It had been a shouting match and it still was. Accusations and ripostes; blame and recrimination - and the Reaper corpses not even cooled in the atmosphere. The peace was turning bitter and the infection was beginning to spread. Shepard would've known what to do, the words to put people in their place and _remember_.

The name caused a pang of regret; uncertainty and sadness. For nearly five months they'd clung to hope. He and Liara and kaidan had watched Tali like hawks; watched as she moved between feverish determination and raging, cold fury. They'd stood with her as she'd limped from the med-bay, Doctor Chakwas holding her weight as she sobbed. They'd sat with her as she wept when the message came through, finally:

_John Shepard - MIA, presumed Killed in Action - Search terminated_

The poor girl had nearly shattered Specialist Traynor's jaw when that announcement had flickered around the Normandy's PA system. He and Kaidan had sat down with the poor human on her hospital bed and explained that Tali was in a bad place. The Specialist had practically cried an apology to Tali.

But the Quarian girl had just soaked it up, quiet and calm and oh so cold; once the tears were dry, once the anger had burned up anything left to weep with.

The repairs had been done in days after that. They'd limped back to Sol barely a week later. And here they were now. The memorial had not gone well - Tali almost throwing the nameplate aside, before finally, shudderingly, placing it against the wall. She'd damn near stormed from the vessel then, grabbing her kit and disappearing back to the safety of the Quarian fleet.

Which meant he and Kaidan had led the debrief, Liara filling in and James Vega punting the odd helpful comment. No, they had only seen the Commander hit the beam; No they hadn't tried to follow; No they did not know where he was.

It sounded as if half the ad-hoc board of races wanted to try him with treason for abandoning the field. The other wanted to award him so many posthumous awards that the gravestone could never be big enough. And now they were sat here, listening to arguments over rationing, over crew compliments, over _reparations_.

The Asari delegate had recommended that the humans fund the reconstruction of the Relay in its entirety - Their system, which everyone had rushed to save - surely they should compensate the others. The meager Salarian representatives had sided with the humans, along with damn near everyone else. A couple of Turian generals were grumbling about _tradition_ and _duty_ and _loyalty to allies: I.E the Original Council_.

Standing to one side of the room, Garrus finally felt his patience snap. He slammed a fist down onto the conference table, startling the assembled officers. Except Kaidan of course, who just smirked from his lounging position near the door.

"Spirits be damned, the lot of you are acting like children. We're gone a few months and you haul us over the coals. Shepard's barely been declared dead for a few weeks and you're letting all this go to crap?" He heaved a sigh and leveled a finger around the room, "Why the hell did we bother, if all of you can barely speak civilly to each other. We still have civilians down there; surviving husks, fires. Not just humans, but wounded, soldiers from every world. And the longer you all spend bickering, the worse it will get. The Relay won't get fixed and who knows what will happen back home. As the humans would say: Suck. It. Up."

He inhaled and realised who he'd been talking to: Generals and Admirals from all the races. Han'Gerrel of the Quarians; Major Kirrahe, a man he counted as a friend; Aria, representing the mercs; Kriklus, one of his fellow Turians. The names whirred by in his head. But he steeled himself - he was a General. He had pushed through London with the best of Hammer, the strike team deployed to Earth. He had seen the enemy and made them blink.

And he'd be damned if he'd be cowed by a bunch of Armchair generals. Even if at least two of them he'd seen in close hand-to-hand on the ground as well. Fine, those two he could accept - the rest be damned.

"Well said, General," The voice came from the door; Garrus managed to control his legs so that he turned slowly. He froze and saluted, the figure of Adrien Victus, the Turian Primarch, framed in the doorway. The man did not look pleased. Behind him Garrus could make out the hulking form of Wrex and the grizzled face of Admiral Hackett. Garrus stood to one side to allow the trio to enter the room. The atmosphere had changed suddenly from one of irritation and recrimination to one of dread. The Primarch viewed the assembled commanders and frowned.

"So, you all decided to, quite of your own initiative, to open old wounds and start another war? Really?" The man sound weary. And that made it worse. Garrus suppressed a smile as he saw the Turian Generals try to avoid their Primarch's gaze. Wrex, looming behind Victus, didn't bother with subtlety. He full on chuckled ominously. Victus continued, "I see some of you were trying to keep the peace - Aria, Kirrahe, my thanks. You are dismissed. General Vakarian, Commander Alenko, you as well. This is going to be a very quick discussion. Wait outside, please."

Garrus saluted, as did Kaidan. They departed, Aria and Kirrahe in tow. in the corridor the four of them exchanged glances. Aria arched an eyebrow at Garrus, "Don't even think of thanking me. Shepard was a pain and frankly too honest for his own good. But I don't want to have survived the biggest genocide in history to get wiped out by a petulant Asari Commander with a grudge, or find a Turian cruiser chasing me around this damn backwater with guns at back back."

Kirrahe chuckled and leaned back, away from Aria's gaze. Still smiling, he spoke, "I don't think the Turian's would be focused on your back, Ms T'Loak."

The Asari narrowed her eyes, but there was the hint of humour in there. But only a hint. Kaidan took that moment to step in, "Understood Aria. Another debt notched up, we'll remember."

The Asari crime Queen eyed the the human Spectre carefully, then shook her head, "No, not so easy Alenko. I owe Shepard a fuck load more. A shame the bastard's dead and can't collect. This ranks low on that scale anyway. Consider it a… freebie. If it means I get back to Omega quicker, so much the better. Now beat it. I need to find a bar. Preferably with no fucking uniforms in it. There's gotta be a club on that dustbowl still standing."

She swivelled and stalked towards the shuttlebay. Garrus exhaled: he'd never realised quite how glad he was that Aria hadn't come after him during his time on Omega. They watched her go, then stood to one side as the briefing room door slid open again. All of the commanders filed out, eyes fixed straight ahead. They looked very cowed. The three men peered back through the door. Primarch Victus waved them back in, but it was Hackett who spoke.

"Gentlemen, we're going to be frank. It's going to hell out there. We predict the relay will be operational within the next four weeks, but it won't be working reliably for god knows how long. That means fleets won't be able to start moving for some damn time. Resources are tight, we have several billion mouths to feed, not all of them with the same bio-chem."

Wrex shifted on a too-small chair and huffed, "The Krogan are stood down and I've got the clans billeted in low-population areas, or close to what's left of the damn Reaper ground forces. Not many, but enough to keep my men busy. Keeps idle minds from picking fights. Salarians, Humans and Turians: Different matter. Asari, well, not too damn many of them and they're not too bad. The rest are going to stick with us - Elcor, Volus, the rest."

Victus nodded slowly, then looked back to Hackett. The Admiral removed his cap and ran a hand through his hair, "Alenko, we need you and the Normandy on Colony ops. No time for much shore leave: you've got two days. Once that Relay is back, we need you out in the Terminus. Major Kirrahe, going by the fragments we're getting from the Comm buoys, I think the STG will be needed near Sur'kesh. Some of the Dalatrass' are getting panicky. For now, we'd be grateful if you could assist Major Alenko with Sol ops, with support to the Terminus afterwards. Pirate gangs are already taking advantage. We have some Batarian volunteers who are willing to act as consultants on this," he saw their faces and cracked a rare smile, "Yeah, surprised us too."

Victus sighed and looked at Garrus, "I need you here General. We've got a lot of turians planetside. They need someone on the ground they can respect. We've had a few fights break out, men and women letting of steam. Lots of people wanting to go home. A bit of resentment building. I need you to nip it in the bud. I have to firefight up here. We're still trying to salvage the Citadel. Keep as many hands busy as possible."

Garrus nodded slowly, "Understood sir… where on... Earth?" not that it really mattered - one barracks was much like another and he didn't really know the planet.

"London… surrounding environs, I believe. Biggest concentration of troops. How you apportion their disposition across the planet I leave to you."

Hackett nodded glumly, "We're still fighting fires in North America, fallout and eezo spread from where ships detonated in the upper atmosphere. Africa is a no-go currently until we can get a good fit on the abandoned Reaper processing facilities - Asia is recovering. Europe's a mess, but mostly standing. Not as built up as the American western belt, more spread, target wise. I'll be your liaison for any support distribution. Handling the dextro-amino food supplies is the major factor."

Garrus goggled, "Admiral, it's been five months. Surely… surely someone's been handling this?"

Victus interrupted, "They were. But they were doing it badly. I just sacked them."

Garrus stared at him: that was tantamount to admitting the Primarch had been in error: Turians who failed… well, it was the responsibility of the officer who put them in that position. Victus shrugged, seeing Garrus' expression, "They were fine soldiers but poor peacemakers. I had told them this was important… and I made clear that their actions reflected on us as a species. I will step down as Primarch should people wish me to. But I will not accept the scorn of men who said to my face that they were capable," He gave faint smile, no real mirth there, "And we didn't have anyone better at the time, truth be told. You use the weapon to hand."

Vakarian nodded slowly, "True. I'd hate to see you being a bad Turian, Primarch."

"I think we could all do with perhaps aspiring less to perfection and maybe to just doing the job in front of us. Wouldn't you agree General?"

"Yes."

"Good. So, London. I need you down there asap. We've got a few liaison figures - local refugee reps, construction teams, medical teams. We know you and Major Alenko have been… searching. But it is time we moved onto the living."

Garrus could feel Kaidan tensing next to him and glanced at the human. He saw the Major set his jaw, then deflate. It had hit them all - the man they'd followed, the man who had united them: he was dead.

Another number on a casualty list numbering in the billions. Just one. And yet somehow, treacherously, it felt a more bitter loss. Garrus steeled himself and nodded, snapping a smart salute.

"By your command, Primarch."

But amid that sadness was a faint glimmer of something new: focus; purpose. They were going to go home. And the nightmare was now over. Yes, there was destruction and danger. But the Reapers were gone. That was a thought he clung to. They were all still alive. Shepard hadn't died in vain. _That_ he had to believe. And it would be good to find old friends again.

* * *

**Welcome to round two my friends. Or possibly round 0.5 as this is technically a prequel.**

**This one will likely update a little slower - probably once every two to three days, but I'll try to keep it regular and better edited!**

**As always, comments on a postcard and thank you for reading - a reminder, all Mass Effect characters and setting are property of EA and Bioware.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Descent

Garrus and Kaidan clumped through the dreadnought's corridors, lost in thoughtful silence. Kirrahe had vanished to grab his kit, stating he would meet them aboard the Normandy. Garrus had his omni-tool open as they walked, scrolling through the rudimentary brief Victus had passed him. He made the Turian equivalent of a whistle through his mandibles. Kaidan glanced his way and arched an eyebrow. Garrus now recognised this as the human expression for "What's up?"

"Troop numbers, refugee numbers. You know, London covers over 2,500 square kilometers."

"Yeah it's a lot bigger than it used to be. Most of South England is now part of the megalopolis."

"Makes me wonder… what Palaven looks like now."

Kaidan paused and patted Garrus on the shoulder. He smiled reassuringly, "Hey don't worry big guy. You'll be there soon. Just sort out the idiots and rabble-rousers."

Garrus shook his head slowly, eyes still focused on the scrolling data, "it's weird - I mean, why aren't you being assigned down there too? I mean, you're human: this is your homeworld. makes sense, surely…"

"Yeah, but it's your army down there. Plus you're more of a celebrity than me."

Garrus chuckled and rubbed the still-scarred right mandible on his face, "Yeah, the ladies do respond to the scars. More impact than getting a headache at them."

Kaidan snorted, "Ouch. Anyway, we'll be down there for a couple of days. Going by what Hackett was saying my remit is more "Stop the idiots on the Sol colonies going ape-shit". More humans out there. They'll respond to me, supposedly."

"Why can the galaxy never stay fixed, eh? Anyway, you sure you don't mind me hitching a ride?"

"Garrus, we're still crew. And do you honestly think you'll get a shuttle down any time soon? The sky's full of debris, routes are being marshalled and there's only two crowded transits a day. Normandy can bypass all that."

"Thank you Kaidan. But still… feels strange now. What with Tali gone and Shep…" Garrus bit off that last one and hung his head, shaking it slowly, "Y'know, part of me is pissed he just went and… died again. Left us all this."

Kaidan leaned against a bulkhead and glanced out of a viewport, through reinforced glass and mass-effect fields, down onto a glittering grey mass that was Earth, "Yeah. But at least we're around to be pissed. I felt that way for a long time, G. Stupid, hated that he just came back, nothing changed and then left a big old mess of politics behind him. Still was mad and he still shook my damn hand and brought me on. And now look at us. Still alive, still kicking and about to make the galaxy a better place. Again."

Garrus snorted and managed a smile. The sound of footsteps made them turn; Kirrahe came into view, small satchel slung across his back.

"Gentlemen, an honour to be joining you on the Normandy again. Are we ready?"

"As we'll ever be," murmured Garrus.

* * *

The three men lounged around the cockpit as Joker disengaged the Normandy from the Turian Dreadnaught. He began keying in a route and sighed, "Well that's going to be fun. We're looking at a two hour descent through the debris field. EDI, you sure about this?"

The metallic woman sat in the co-pilot chair turned and blinked at him, "I'm sorry Jeff, the chance of me being incorrect on this prediction is below 3.75%"

"So there is a chance, right?"

"No, Mr Moreau. We will have to remain on the guidance path through the debris field, else we may disrupt salvage operations, EVA walks and other Victory Fleet actions. Also, the chance of a collision increases to 75.3% if we deviate."

Joker harrumphed and went back to his pre-descent checks. Garrus exhaled and peered out at the hive of activity that was the fleet above Earth. Despite the spread of vessels, space was very cramped at the moment. Large segments of what had once been the vast Citadel space station, moved by the Eldritch Reapers across the Galaxy to above Earth, now drifted, fragmented and dangerous. Fires still burned.

It had been a miracle that there had been any survivors on the station, but somehow several hundred thousand people had managed to remain safe, even with Reaper forces rampaging throughout. Of course, the sheer volume of Reapers themselves around the station had meant many were suffering the residual effects of indoctrination, but it wasn't as severe as more long-term sufferers. The ones who had been sleeper agents, or exposed for months.

The carcasses of the Reapers themselves, as well as the shattered and wrecked remains of several thousand Allied vessels now littered Earth's upper atmosphere. Every day, more streaks of fire could be seen shrieking across the planet's surface as more debris burned up. garrus had learned upon their arrival that the fleet had worked out how to tow the large debris segments away. Apparently some bright sparks had managed to reverse engineer the method the Reaper's had used: gigantic mass effect generators. Even the citadel Ring segments were being towed towards the Charon relay, ready for transit back to the Widow Nebula. When the Relay was working again of course.

The Reapers themselves were being towed into orbit around Jupiter. There was still an argument over what to do with them. Some argued that putting them all together was a bad idea: what if they reanimated? Better to scatter the remains. others argued that there might be residual effects of indoctrination in fragments; Garrus had shuddered when that had been mentioned in their debrief a few days before. He remembered the derelict Reaper which had hung like a spider in the Thorne system.

Someone had seen reason and the more intact fragments were being punted into Sol, the human system's star. Better safe than sorry.

Kaidan peered at Garrus, "You ok there buddy? Look a bit lost."

The Turian shuddered and nodded, "Just remembering. How long d'y think until they've cleared… this?"

"Years. Right now its morale: find the bodies, clear some routes, get the big pieces away and salvaged. Get those Reaper bits as far away from the planet as possible. The usual. Last think we need is some leaking eezo-core slamming planet side and wiping out a newly rebuilt city block."

Major Kirrahe leaned forwards and peered out the window, "Yes, main priority appears to be clearance for resupply. I suspect, general, you're going to be having a lot of fun arranging food drops for your men. You'll have to bully the Admirals to get clearing more routes. The sentimentality may have to wait, unfortunately."

"So, Major, you're saying I'll need to hold the line?" the Turian flared a grin. Kaidan laughed and Kirrahe smirked.

"Quite so, General Vakarian. Now, Major Alenko. Captain Alenko? Human ranks, so confusing - is there any refreshment aboard? if it will take two hours, I would like to discuss preliminary ideas before we hit planetside and start taking on troops. I may be able to assist with… augmentees."

Kaidan nodded and headed aft, the Salarian STG Major in tow. Garrus paused a moment more, looking out the viewport one last time. He had an image of another time; another vessel in pieces, flames erupting across decks, a yellow beam slicing through the blackness. He came back to the here and now: back then it had been hell - the beginning of a path of blood. A second beginning, really.

But now he wasn't looking at a battlefield anymore. Now it was a graveyard.

Joker glanced up at him, "Looks like that stick's back."

"Yeah, it hurts to pull it out to beat you with it." Garrus pushed the gloom away and chuckled at Jokers surprised look, "Yeah, I've got a sense of humour. Though no captive audience. Sorry EDI, he's all yours."

"That's quite alright General Vakarian. there are methods of rendering him speechless."

"Aaaaand I'm out," Garrus managed, grin almost manic. He beat a hasty retreat, still grinning. He was going to miss this ship.

* * *

He found Kaidan and Kirrahe on the mess deck, now joined by Liara. The Asari gave him a wan smile and tilted her head, "Garrus - I hear you're leaving."

"Not by choice. Duty calls, apparently."

"Any word from Tali…?"

Garrus shook his head sadly, "No. You saw her, Liara. She's as gone as you can be while still being alive. She practically bailed out after… after the service."

Liara swallowed and nodded. garrus was surprised: Liara's information networks were still working well: she'd have _known_ if he'd heard. That she was asking really shed some light on the worries. That and Javik's departure had left her a bit more shaken. the Prothean had been a crabby old bastard, but they had all reached an understanding: he had learned of them and come to respect them all. But he was a man out of his time. Once they had returned to Sol he had simply left. Liara had found a data drive full of information atop her workstation, but the Prothean had gone to join his brothers.

Garrus eased into a chair next to Kirrahe, Liara sliding next to Kaidan. The human Spectre smiled reassuringly at her, "We're dropping G off at his new Command. Then, apparently, kirrahe and I have got to make a show of keeping tabs on the spacers and colonies in Sol. And when the Relay's working, it's off to the Terminus."

The man's voice was bright and Garrus noticed the way he kept glancing at the table and then back at Liara. Well, took the man long enough… Liara on the other hand looked sad.

"Ah. I see. I will disembark on Earth and establish a new communications centre on-planet until suitable alternatives can be…."

"What? No! I mean, no, that wasn't a…." the human looked panicked for a moment, lost for words. Liara looked momentarily confused; a bit like the Liara they had found on Therum: naive, confused, lost. Kirrahe glanced between the two, evidently a little confused. Kaidan continued, finally rallying, "Liara I was hoping you'd stick with us… we're a stealth vessel, we're secure. Can't imagine a better nexus for the Shadow Broker… that is if you think… I mean you might be…"

It was almost painful. _Almost_. Garrus leaned back and folded his arms, "Look, T'Soni, kaidan clearly needs a strategic asset. The man clearly can't plan worth a damn. And you'll have an STG operative to tie you in there as well. What can I offer you, hmm? Broken streets and a rather poor climate, with a chance of bored soldiers and banditry."

Liara smiled across at the Turian, "Sounds just like my old digs," she blinked as if realising. Or at least noticing Garrus' smirk. She glanced at Kaidan and tilted her head, "Kaidan you really don't mind?"

"Um, no, I mean…"

Wow. And the two of them _had_…. well, he was pretty sure that they had... Humans. Asari. Confusing as hell. And he should know. Again, Garrus' thoughts wandered: a hood and gleaming eyes twinkling beneath. A smart smile and the smell of a rose. He focused back in to see Liara smiling properly.

"Well, then i don't need to worry about making you carry all my machinery off the ship anymore…"

"Well, that's what i keep Vega around for."

"True. And he is a strapping young gentleman…" Kaidan seemed to visibly twitch. More surprisingly, Liara laid a hand on his arm, reassuringly. They both froze and stared at the hand, before pulling apart in embarrassment.

"Well I should go check the…."

"..I'm sure there;s some reports…"

_Blushing_ the pair stammered their way out of the mess deck - Liara retreating to her room, Kaidan coughing into a fist and making a beeline for the elevator. And yet they did manage to keep glancing at each other while studiously avoiding each other's gaze. Major Kirrahe watched them go, then turned to look at Garrus.

"What just happened?"

"I have no idea. So, Major… what can we expect groundside?" Garrus was eager to change the subject, funny as it was. He needed to hit the ground ready. The Salarian nodded slowly, becoming businesslike.

"Several key resupply bases across the planet, now immediate threat is gone. The landmass known as "Europe" has two: London and Berlin. Two in African expanse, one on the American East coast, three in Asia and one in Australasia. South America also has one." The Salarian seemed to be running through a checklist, "All the bases are in varying stages of establishment - priority was military resupply and fleet stability. Now we appear to be transitioning into a fortification role."

Garrus brought up his omni-tool, "So, I'm being given London?"

"Most likely a shared command with civilian representatives. The London beachead is the most established; in truth it is on the edge of the London Megopolis. The other bases are still prefab and being established. More details are… sketchy. Firestorms in the Americas, severe weather issues across Asia and Africa. Severe bandit activity across Australasia."

Garrus shook his head: win a war, fight a peace. It wasn't just humans, it was everyone. All that stress that should've died with the Reapers, it just kept building. They needed that Relay. But would it stop then?

"So my job is to redistribute the troops in London…. where?"

"Wherever they're needed. The other sites are being supplied and have their own commanders - primarily Humans, with augmentees. Likely you will be handling the Turian and Krogan troops in London, not the actual recovery operations themselves. But every person is needed. We just need to remind everyone what they fought for. Easy to believe the fight is all that matters. It's where our Dalatrass went wrong."

Garrus nodded slowly and sighed. The ship lurched a little and Joker's voice came over the comm.

_"Sorry about the turbulence…. think that may have been Harbinger. Or what's left of him!"_

The pilot's voice was fit to gloating. And for once Garrus couldn't help but grin as well.


	3. Chapter 3 - Visions

The sky was grey. It was always grey these days. And while the usual joke of "It's England, what did you expect?" didn't sound as funny now. The ever-present clouds of dust mingled with the drifting smoke of fires a thousand miles wide, raging on a continent hundreds of miles away. Seismic activity was rumbling away in the pacific, adding to the ash in the air. This was the cost of victory: a ruined world, battered and scarred.

But there was hope in it as well.

There were breaks in the clouds of ash and filth that allowed meagre sunlight to pierce through. Despite the horror of the Reapers, despite the lingering presence of the Remnants, there was life here: birdsong echoed among the rubble; cooking fires burned; music rose into the air from hundreds of survivor camps.

Sat on the rim of shattered building, Kasumi Goto inhaled the air and smiled: it still smelt of burnt cloth and brick dust, but there was something cleaner about it now. No more charred flesh or rotting carrion. She leant backwards against what was left of broken plasteel masonry, she surveyed the street: Moorgate, or something. The building had been a bank, or some sort of finance house. In the husk of the building's frame sat burnt out servers and shattered offices: remnants of a normal time. People had stalked these halls, shouting for profit and chasing the jumping lines of wealth and waste.

A few scant months ago, this sort of place would've been a gold mine for her; a place to outsmart, to infiltrate, to scam. Security lines and gullible marks. The money was more about keeping score: proving a point that nothing was secure, nothing was safe.

But now that sort of sentiment rang hollow - proving a point? The Reapers had already shown that no where was safe. They had shown that wealth didn't matter; that the sum total of human achievement was but nothing compared to their almighty power. And yet they had been struck down. Brought low by ingenuity and cunning of those they saw as mere ants. She took a small amount of solace in that.

A movement below stirred her from her contemplation: a grey, shambling form. She felt herself give an involuntary shudder: what was below her was a horrific reminder that they weren't quite done. The people who had once worked here: had they been caught and dragged, screaming, to spikes or processing vats? Had they been twisted into the horror of life that somehow still clung to a mockery of existence. She tapped a comm link in her ear.

"Lieutenant - looks like we have a visitor."

She heard the crackle of the earpiece before Lieutenant Sharrock replied. He sounded tired, but alert.

_"Not friendly I take it?"_

"Husk. If there's one, there's probably a few more."

_"Roger that."_

She could hear the little band of soldiers moving within the building, heading to join her on her vantage point. Quite a fun little troupe, she had found: a real mix. It reminded her of her time on the Normandy. She had come to Sol with the rest of the Crucible project, feeling compelled to join in, despite those protests she had made to Shepard. It had been so long ago, but she remembered that day: exposing the indoctrinated Hanar and running rings around the Salarian Spectre had been fun. Seeing Shepard again had been good too: it had given her a sense of relief, but also dread. The memories of the Collector base, that horrific place beyond the Omega 4 Relay, along with the nightmare within… they were still strong memories.

She had turned down his offer to join them, though part of her had screamed at her foolishness. Kasumi had compromised in the end, offering to help with the Crucible project, to aid with procurement and security. Which was why she was on Sol now. It had seemed most sensible to be with the largest fleet in the Universe, rather than on a colony world that could've been overwhelmed at any moment.

Plus it had given her a chance to catch up. To see old friends. Well. For her to see _them_. Mostly. She had talked to Tali at least. Even Miranda. And Shepard, of course.

But the Turian had been a problem.

She had seen him in the refugee camps on the Citadel, tending to the wounded, those not able to even fight for themselves any had tried to think of a way to approach him, to engage. but her usual unflappable cockiness had failed her. She had activated her cloak and snuck away, a feeling of loss, dread and sadness taking up residence in her gut.

A hand on her shoulder made her flinch. She looked up into a face that looked far too young. Dan Sharrocks had earned his role as head of their little band of heroes: search, rescue and salvage. Behind him she could see the four man squad that made up the remainder: another human, Lizzie Deakin, their heavy weapons lady; Urdnot Klin, a young Krogan only recently attached to them and quite the capable medic; Rogila, their Batarian sniper and Teel'Shuran, a Quarian marine.

They had been tasked to try to salvage what they could from London's ruins: people, equipment, supplies. It had been chaos since hammer had hit the ground, arguably even worse after the Reapers had all gone up in a burst of static and white lightning. The capital ships on the ground had practically collapsed in on themselves; the ground troops had been a different story: some had suicided, others had simply exploded. And then there were ones like the grey Husk below.

Lt Sharrocks peered down, following kasumi's outstretched arm. He grunted and shook his head.

"When there's one, there's always a pack. This one looks pretty buggered though."

His accent was gruff, British, like a younger, slightly better spoken Zaeed. The officer gestured to Rogila who took up a position against a broken strut that had once been part of a wall. Kasumi watched the sniper take aim, saw her breathing slow. There was a crack and the Husk in the street below collapsed, head a shattered mess. Kasumi shook her head sadly, whilst Teel'Shuran murmured a brief prayer for the fallen. The LT nodded grimly then gestured to the squad.

"Right, let's move out. Teel, cover the rear; Klin, you've got point. With any luck, the rest of the Husks are still fighting each other. We're heading back to the FOB."

The squad exhaled, varying stages of relief. Kasumi felt a little weight lift off her shoulders; the forward bases were little more than fortified ruins, but they were safer than the streets. Bit by bit they were reclaiming the city, true, but the sanctuary of the little oases were a relief after days trudging through rubble. Not quite as good as the main logistics support base in Kent - there was greenery there at least, especially around Ashford. But the FOB would do: a shower would be nice.

"Found something then?" she stood and stretched, feeling her neck click. Sharrock shrugged.

"A few med supplies, some useful data. We've managed to get the extranet hub in this area back online: we can run remote feeds from here, maybe move some reclamation teams in here, clear the husks out properly. Plus we found an accessway to the Underground that's still clear."

"Can't believe you Brits still used that thing."

"If it ain't broken, why bother spending taxpayer money making it work better?" The officer quirked a grin, "You'd think the Alliance had learned from us…"

Kasumi looked up at the sky and sighed. She managed a smile, watching a bird loop down: a pigeon, she realised. Back to recolonise London once again. Something beyond it caught her eye however: a ship, descending from the West. It wasn't a shuttle: too big. It was staying high, keeping out of range of the still-active hostile AA guns: Husks, pirates, deserters… there were a lot of threats in the metropolis.

But it wasn't the fact it was a ship that had her frozen. It was the shape. A vessel she had known intimately. Very intimately in some respects.

The officer squinted up, whilst Rogila raised her rifle. Kasumi heard the Batarian gasp. They watched the sleek vessel glide high above, almost soundlessly, disappearing into the dust cloud to the east.

"It's…. the Normandy."

* * *

Garrus shook his head slowly, eyes barely able to take it all in. He and Kaidan were stood in the War room, watching a real-time display of the city below. Liara stood to one side, frowning as messages streamed across her omni tool, speaking quietly to Kirrahe. Kaidan ran a hand through his hair and exhaled.

"Damn, what a mess."

"At least they've started moving the Reapers…"

On the screen two vast freighters hovered above the shattered wreck of a Reaper Sovereign-class warship. They were using Mass Effect emitters to haul the vast carcass into the air, for shipping to space. Dust fountained up as the huge ship was hauled upwards. Several buildings surrounding the wreck collapsed inwards. Garrus shuddered.

"Palaven can't be doing much better."

Kaidan shook his head, "You fought them off at least. We just… died."

Garrus shot him a look, "No, Alenko, you _lived_. You pulled through. You'll come back from this; either that or all the war-vids your planet produced were lying really badly. Jayne Won wouldn't have given up."

"John Wayne, Garrus."

"You humans have far too many similar names. Anyway, would he have given up, or would he have "raddled up" and gotten back out there?"

"Saddled up," Kaidan gave the Turian a grin, "I think you're doing that on purpose. But you're right. It's still a lot to take in… not sure what I was expecting: get back to Earth and.. what? Everything rebuilt? Parades? This is…"

The screen flared as tracer fire flared up from a ruined tower building, tracking along the side of one of the freighters, the vessel's kinetic barriers rippling at the impact. The building vanished in a flash of orange flame as three alliance fighters screamed in a graceful arc nearby, contrails from air to ground missiles slowly dissipating. Kadian and Garrus goggled. The Turian was the first to speak.

"What the hell?"

Liara glanced up and pursed her lips, "Indoctrinated most likely. Or scavengers wanting to get some salvage. Reports indicate that the centre of the city is quite lawless. There is a corridor from the outer-limits… the district known as "Kent" I believe. The Citadel Beam is still secured, along with the areas formerly held by the resistance. But there are heavily entrenched positions of indoctrinated and Husk remnants."

"I still don't get how those things survived. We fry the big ships: surely the small fry should've burned up." Kaidan glared at the screen, watching ruined buildings zip past. IFF indicators pinged up, too many and too rapidly to make an accurate assessment. Liara managed a gentle smile in his direction.

"Its not all bad news: they have no command and control to speak of. intel seems to indicate that i most are feral: There are some similarities with Geth architecture, however: the more of the more advanced Reaper frames that are together, the more directed they become." She brought up an image: Garrus recognised it as the derelict Reaper that he and Shepard had clambered around in on their hunt for that damn IFF: the key to the omega 4 Relay. Liara continued, "Research is very limited, but it would appear that, at least at close range, there is still a rudimentary operating intelligence. For all their might, the Reapers are… were still machines. Near to their corpses the indoctrinated may feel a sense of belonging. Perhaps, even some form of basic instincts for preservation or organisation."

Kaidan stared in horror at the floating monstrosity, then switched the image back to the Reaper being retrieved, several miles back, "Those things can still indoctrinate?"

"It seems to be a combination of the machinery and the Reaper intelligence. Without one the effect is lessened: confusion, rather than a subversion of will. For those who are already indoctrinated, or the Husk forces? Data is limited. We know there are Reaper artefacts without intelligence that can still indoctrinate. Object Rho, which… Shepard encountered. The Leviathan Spheres. But these may still require some remote consciousness. Without the Reapers themselves, the effects will likely fade, the husks becoming more feral. Look."

The image flickered again, revealing what was left of Trafalgar Square. Nelson's column was thoroughly shattered; the national gallery a broken shell of a building, exposed to the elements. But it was the population of the square that drew their attention. Kaidan stared, "What am I looking at?"

Liara smiled, thinly, "I've hacked a feed from one of the reactivated extranet drones. The servers are being relit across London. Which means some cameras are working again. What you're seeing is what happens without direction."

The square was a mess of Husk corpses. There were a few still alive: corrupted Turian Marauders, a hulking Brute, but mainly the repurposed human Husks. The Marauders were going through a strange pattern: ducking in and out of cover, advancing and then retreating. garrus blinked and realised the creatures were trying to fire their weapons, aiming at a huge sprawl of Husk bodies. The creatures were out of ammo, stuck in a loop.

The Brute was a bit more focused. That focus, however, seemed to be mainly "hold the high ground": it stood atop the broken pillar of Nelson's column, batting away at the grey human Husks that were trying to clamber up to join it. The battle wasn't going entirely its way however: two broken, shattered husks clung on, hacking away at the beast with bloodied claws and broken teeth. As they watched, the brute staggered and toppled from the pedestal, crashing to the broken paving below. The human Husks swarmed over it, attacking each other as much as their fallen ally. Liara flicked the screen off.

"So, not all bad news. But it is still unpleasant. I think you have seen what your likely tasks are to be, Garrus."

General Vakarian frowned, "Yeah. Question is, Liara… why haven't they started already? That many Husks? Surely we should be making more of a dent? slowly, he shook his head, "I think I'm going to have to make some very direct enquiries."

* * *

**Bit of a short one while I plan out the next few. Hope you enjoy. Ain't the world rosy?**


	4. Chapter 4- Reality

The Normandy's arrival caused quite a stir. The logistic's base was by no means small, but word spread very quickly. The base covered a good two square miles, covering the area around the small hamlet of Charing, all the way to near the edge of London's outer limits. Over the years the city had expanded out, nearly doubling in size. Maidstone, a sizeable town in the middle of the County of Kent had now been absorbed by the megalopolis. The base was a landmark, easily seen from their altitude. Garrus gaze from the cockpit window and gawped. This dwarfed their little FOB on Menae. But then again, it was supplying all operations in both England and western Europe. He watched Shuttles zip too and fro, vast freighters descending between them, carrying fresh supplies and munitions. And even now he could see the movement of soldiers, moving like a herd towards the landing strips, hacked out of what had once been fields and forests. The sky was a little clearer here, showing that there was still something called "countryside" on the planet.

Joker guided the Normandy down, across the man feed-road - the "M20" apparently - that led between the city and the trans-channel tunnels and bridge system, connecting this island to the wider continent. The location made sense: an island that could be more easily defended, especially against a force that had no real concept of a "navy" in terrestrial terms.

He felt the vessel shudder slight as they touched down and glanced at Joker.

"Good job. So, what should I expect?"

"Aside from warm beer and confusing sports? Not much. Not really "Done" England."

EDI glanced across at them, then focused on Garrus, "The commanders wish to see you at the HQ tent: they are sending a Mako to collect you."

"Thanks EDI. Guess it's time to get back to work."

He headed for the airlock, Kaidan and Liara joining him. Kaidan grinned at Garrus' expression, "We're not stealing your thunder, G. Just think it might help if you have a Spectre backing you."

Garrus snorted, then shrugged, "Good point. We've got a Mako coming. One consolation: Shepard won't be driving."

The laugh was sincere, but tinged with sadness. Kaidan shook his head, "Remember on Antibaar, when he damn near flipped the thing?"

Liara winced, "Don't remind me… and then he insisted on tackling the Thresher Maw on _foot_."

""For the experience of it," Man, I can still see that grin." Kaidan shook his head, "Damn. Gonna miss that bastard."

"You and me both, Alenko. So, let's go do him proud."

The three stepped out into the bleak, strained light of Earth.

* * *

Kasumi practically had to fight to get into the makeshift HQ in the Forward base: all off-duty soldiers had piled in to watch the Normandy's arrival. Her team had gotten back only a few minutes ago and she'd left them to de-kit. She had never really been one for operational procedures or rules. Sometimes they made sense, but sometimes she got bored.

She managed, by sneaky use of cloaking and liberal use of an invisible elbow, to get to the front, to one of the view-screens. The base commander had decided to simulcast from one of the embedded reporters: ANN. The ship was ground-side now, but with no clear shot of the air-lock, which now had a set of temporary steps, similar to those at most commercial ground-ports, fastened to the side. Kasumi caught sight of a blue-skinned humanoid, recognising Liara. She only saw her head, disappearing as the woman descended the steps from the Normandy and was obscured by a Mako that had drawn up alongside. The reporter's voice was muffled.

"...urprise appearance of this legendary ship has caused quite a stir here at Camp Hope. According to sources amongst the Victory Fleet, the Normandy has only recently returned after disappearing in the aftermath of the Crucible Event. With critics declaring them deserters, this arrival brings a raise in morale, but perhaps more questions. This is Seymour Wintle, for Alliance News Network."

The image sliced back to the prefab studio set up at Camp Hope, where several talking heads began to debate the return of the Normandy, the political impact and why it was now groundside. Kasumi slunk away, not sure how she felt. Who had she wanted to see? Tali? Liara? Some of her friends, perhaps. She heard one of the newscaster say: "Does this mean Shepard's back?" At that she dashed out of the tent, before the crowd began shouting.

Great: start a panic. Or a party. Yes. Part of her had wanted to see Shepard: to know he was alive, to thank him. But they'd scoured the rubble: no body. Even up on the Citadel, they hadn't found him. The field hospitals were fit to bursting: there were so many. The largest, there in Hope, of course; but there were hundreds dotted around the City: small clinics all the way to rudimentary military triage centres in the rubble. Hundreds of thousands of casualties: where did you start?

And now, she realised, she was skirting the issue. What had she expected anyway? To see him? Then what? She huffed and stalked back to her team. Lizzie spotted her first as she entered the squad's tent. The woman was stripping her dust coated armour off, heavy weapon disassembled over to one side. The others had already racked their weapons and were in various stages of undress, or just sprawled in their camp LT wasn't there, off getting debriefed likely as not. Lizzie managed a crooked smile at Kasumi, the faint scar on the heavy-set woman's face giving her a leering expression. Kasumi was used to it now. Lizzie was shockingly pretty, which had made her feel a little ashamed when she'd first met her: ready to see some sort of ogre of a woman, rather than an amazon: expectations and all. The woman spoke up now.

"You look worse than Klin after a dose of Ryncol, Goto. What's up?"

"Nothing… just weird seeing the Normandy again."

Teel peered from his bed, still enviro-suited. his armour extensions were stacked neatly next to him, "Of course: you served with Tali'Zorah vas Normandy!"

"Among others… but yeah, I did."

"But they're back, surely that's good?" Lizzie sat down on her bunk and hefted the heavy machine gun that was her signature weapon into her lap to begin cleaning it, "I mean, maybe you can catch up?"

Kasumi folded her arms and cocked her head, "Yeah. We're in a FOB, fifty miles away from Camp Hope, which is two days by road, if there's no trouble. And no shuttles. So close, yet so far."

She gave a little shrug, then rocked as Rogila slapped her on the back. The Batarian woman grinned, her four eyes flickering.

"Homesick, Goto? Or got a fever for something else?"

Kasumi managed not to blush but instead managed a laugh. Which was, in itself, a bit of a giveaway, "Really, 'Ila? You're going there?"

"Well, i did hear Shepard had a harem… didn't expect you to be doing the sway-sway!"

Klin rumbled a laugh from across the tent; Lizzie grinned. Kasumi tutted and shook her head, "Doubtful - I had no desire to be on the wrong end of a Quarian shotgun."

Teel practically fell off his bunk at that one. His eyes goggled at her from behind his opaque visor, "So it's true? Tali and Shepard! Wow… lucky girl."

Not for the first time Kasumi had had to readjust her assessments. But then again, it was a big galaxy. She smiled. Rogila leaned back on her own bunk and nodded sagely, "Fair enough. So. Not Shepard then. So whoooo could it be?" She eyed kasumi mischievously. The thief made a show of covering her ears.

"I'm not playing!" she made for the shower cubicles, scooping up a towel as she went, the laughter of her friends echoing behind her as they began placing bets.

* * *

The Mako ride was just as rattling as their first outings, despite the secure harnesses and flat were trundling along. They jostled in their seats, lost in quiet contemplation. The camp itself was like military deployments the galaxy over - an grid of organiser chaos: neatly lined prefab blocks and mess tents; cargo yards and vehicle bays. Troops trudging between canteen and rack time. The strange thing was the air of boredom. It was nearly palpable: Garrus nearly gasped in surprise. He looked at the driver, a Batarian.

"When was the last major action out here?"

"Hmmm. 'Bout a month ago."

"But you have forward bases, what about those?"

"They get resupplied every couple of weeks. Troop rotation is slow; you Turians have blocked a few transfers. The bases seem to be pulling through though. Gotta hand it to the humans: they've really taken this on." The soldier shifted gear, eyes on the dirt track. Ahead, through the viewport, they could see the bristling antenna and sat-dishes of the hq prefab. The soldier continued, "But I guess, seeing as this is their planet, they can't exactly let up..."

The Mako trundled to a halt in front of the HQ, the access hatch sliding open. Their small part exited, Kaidan looking troubled. He looked at Garrus, "Sounds like it's not all cosy in paradise."

The Turian nodded slowly. The scant information from the driver painted a rather bleak picture: under supplied bases, humans striking out on their own? What the heck had happened down here? The trio made their way to the front of the HQ prefab - a cluster of buildings, reinforced with blast shields and overhead mass effect fields.

The entry pre-fab consisted of a small security checkpoint with scanner, reminiscent of the station leading to the War Room on the Normandy. After securing their weapons, save for side-arms (Never wise to be caught unarmed if a Husk dropped in…) they entered the main Operations room beyond, a crowded, open space of monitoring stations, communication terminals and holographic maps. In the middle, crowded around a large central display desk, a group of high ranking officials appeared caught up in a rather heated exchange. Whilst soldiers worked away, filing requisition reports, detail reports of hostile movements and updated real-time trackers, which flashed onto over-head display screens, there was the subtle sense that everyone was trying to tune out the argument at the centre.

A couple of Krogan were leaning on the display, jabbing thick fingers towards a sullen group of three Turians opposite them. A pair of humans, their backs to the newly-arrived trio, appeared to be trying to placate both groups. A batarian stood alongside the Krogan, watching the exchange carefully; two figures, clearly the Asari and Salarian commanders, were stood off to one side, pointedly not getting involved in the debate.

The entry of Garrus, Liara and Kaidan had had a rather interesting impact: heads had turned at their entry, several doing double takes. Silence had begun to spread across the room, conversations faltering, until only the harsh words at the centre of the room could be heard.

"...olding us back, again. This is a waste of time!"

"And you want to get us all killed on some foolish glory hunt!"

"Gentlemen!" one of the humans interjected, "This solves nothing and this is a conversation we've had a thousand times before…."

The man trailed off, the silence hitting like the toll of a bell. The commanders looked around the room, thinking maybe they had gone too far. Then they spotted the trio, stood at the entrance. Garrus allowed himself a small smile as the group stiffed. Resentment? Anger?

No.

Fear.

He steeled himself and strode forwards. Right now he wasn't Garrus Vakarian the sharpshooter. He wasn't Archangel. He wasn't a _bad Turian_. Right now, he was General Vakarian, second to the Primarch.

The group parted, almost unconsciously as he approached. He suppressed a smile as he recognised two of the faces at the table: the human who hadn't spoke and one of the Krogan.

Zaaed and Grunt.

So, maybe there were allies here. He came to a stop at the display, sparing the chaotic swirl of holographic images a limited glance. Garrus surveyed the group, seeing wariness in most eyes; gleeful anticipation in Grunt's and a certain suppressed amusement in Zaeed's: they evidently knew what he was here for.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" He managed to keep his nerves down, delivering the line in his usual sardonic drawl. One of the Turian's flexed his neck, almost looking down his nose at Garrus, a universal symbol of disdain: more so among Turians with their avian heritage. It meant someone saw you as "prey". Weak.

"We were told to expect you, Vakarian. We are in the middle of a planning meeting, so please pass the information to one of our adjutants."

Time to reverse that role then. Garrus met the man's stare and shook his head, "That's _General_ Vakarian to you, Brigadier. When I ask a question, a direct response is appreciated. Ex C-Sec, we like to get to the point."

The Turian Colonel visible rocked backward, the instinctive retort clearly bitten back as the Turian devotion to duty and rank kicked in. His fellow Turians appeared uneasy now, glancing between their commander and the new "boss", as it were. Garrus spared the group another glance, noting that the Salarian and Asari had now joined the group. He tried to ignore Kaidan and Liara behind him: he could tell they were grinning. Slowly, he placed his knuckles on the display surface, sending ripples through the holograms above.

"The Primarch is not happy, gentlemen. The Admirals are not happy. _Urdnot Wrex_ is not happy. You know what I saw when I was dropping in? A wasteland. Pirates. _Husks_." He straightened and fixed his gaze on each. Grunt and Zaeed matched his gaze: no need to challenge them, probably. The others, however, they flinched, "My colleagues and I… we've been away. Nice vacation, no decent alcohol, piss poor extranet reception. And then I get told things aren't going well. Barely a dent, even."

He took note of the silence, still hanging in the air. Well, he'd made his point. It didn't do to completely undermine the chain of command. He knew the way of military camps: rumours of arse kicking and name taking would already be flying around - morale would only take a hit if he continued to shout down the commanders in full view of the ops room. Garrus took note of the side rooms, useful for more in-depth briefings, away from the hubbub, and gestured.

"I need to see all senior commanders, privately. Debrief in ten minutes. Spectre Alenko, I need the up to date intel reports for the past week. Before they get sanitised. The Mil-Int cell should be here somewhere. If you would be so kind?"

Kaidan snapped a crisp salute, still grinning, "My pleasure _General_."

"Doctor T'Soni, if you could identify and liaise with the tech teams on any info to do with husk presence and other… pertinent matters, I would be grateful. Right then. I will see you all in ten."

Garrus winked surreptitiously at Zaeed, patted Grunt on the shoulder, swivelled and marched towards one of the briefing rooms, leaving the majority of the commanders slack-jawed behind him. A moment later they were scrabbling to get their info together. Around the room, most of the soldiers were doing their damndest to focus on the work in front of them. And most of them were finding it very hard not to smile.


	5. Chapter 5 Recollections

Kasumi let out a relieved sigh, feeling the water pour across her. She didn't mind trooping through the dust and grime of London: for once, the feeling of being part of something bigger felt pretty good (She blamed Shepard for that one). But you couldn't beat the feeling of hot water washing away the day's work and stress. She savoured these moments - water was tightly rationed in the FOBs, the local supplies still unreliable and contaminated. But they all had an allowance of ten minutes per patrol.

Admittedly, this water was more lukewarm than red-hot, as she normally liked them, but right now it was doing her the world of good. Kasumi's mind wandered; the sight of the Normandy had really hit her more than she'd realised. The friends she'd made, the times they'd had.

_"So, you're the master thief, eh?"_

_She had just walked out of the briefing room, having introducing herself to the ships rather icy XO. No she was face to torso with a Turian. She wasn't exactly a short woman, but Turians were rather annoyingly wiry. Kasumi tried to read his face and couldn't tell if he was smirking, leering or glaring. The scar didn't help. The Turian had his arms folded, further reassuring the disapproving feel about him._

_"So, what makes a thief want to go all out on a special ops mission? A little bit, ah, outside of normal habits?"_

_She smiled and cocked her head. Ah, he was a cocky one then. Uptight too, it seemed._

_"You must be "Archangel"", the Turian flinched at the name, face turning away a little, keeping the scar out of her sight. Puzzled, she continued, "The cop? The one who went all vigilante. Now isn't that a little bit outside of your normal habits?"_

_To her surprise the man laughed and turned his face back to her. He hung his head and unfolded his arms, holding hands up placatingly._

_"Ah, heh. Yeah, ok. Sorry. Let me start over. Garrus Vakarian, former C-Sec, sometime vigilante and complete hypocrite," he offer a vague shrug, "Cerberus ship, has me a bit on edge."_

_The sudden about face off balanced her, but only briefly. She managed to smile._

_"Ahhh, you've worked with Shepard before. Saren. The Battle of the Citadel. No offense taken - not my usual gig either, so you're not completely off the mark. Cerberus thinks my skills might be useful… and they're doing me a solid," Here she paused and tilted her head, fixing her eyes on the Turian, "Or rather Shepard is. You know him: man of his word?"_

_She shifted as the Turian fixed his piercing blue gaze on her. The eyes were bird-like, but intelligent. It took her a moment to realise she'd been staring back. Garrus nodded slowly._

_"Definitely. If he's promised to do something, you'll end up owing him a hell of a lot of favours. Because that man will go above and beyond."_

_Kasumi nodded quickly, satisfied, "Thanks, that's, uh, a relief."_

_"Yeah. Is he in there? I need to run something by him."_

_"Uh, no. Out with Zaeed and Jacob, grabbing supplies I think."_

_"Damn… well, here's hoping the food quality improves at least. I better get back to the batteries. Calibrating, y'know. Welcome aboard….?"_

_"Kasumi. Kasumi Goto."_

_"Well, good to meet you, Ms Goto."_

_Garrus nodded and turned away, vanishing and leaving a slightly perplexed, but more relaxed Kasumi behind._

It had been good times. Before Shepard had come back from Aratoht. Before she'd seen their vibrant leader get his legs swept from under him by cowards: There'd been the drinks on Omega; a feast on Tuchanka; enjoying the sights on Ilium. That post-suicide mission party on the Citadel. Falling asleep on a sofa, alien arms draped around her, the faintly metallic and warm smell he always had around him.

She blinked rapidly and wiped her eyes, then slumped against the wall of the cubicle. Her thoughts turned, as they did now and then, to Keiji. Her love, the man whose memories, his _literal_ memories she had fought for. There was that briefest spasm of guilt: in the wake of finding his greybox, of mourning him, she had spent a week lusting after poor Jacob. But Mr Taylor hadn't been the one to help her through that moment of indecision….

_Kasumi cradled the small, insignificant data-pod in her hands. In reality she didn't need it. All the memories were in her own grey-box now. She could linger in there, keeping him in her minds eye forever. Never moving forwards. But never losing him either. Kasumi glanced out of the observation window: the Citadel filled the view - flashing lights and busy people. It was a place she felt both at home in and weary of. Being a thief, she preferred shadows. Crowds were useful, but she liked to be apart from them._

_Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't really eaten for the past day or so. Shepard had helped with the run on Bekenstein - the heist that had gotten her these oh-so-precious memories. Grumbling, she pushed herself to her feet, carefully pocketing the disc. At least that was physical, something to hold onto._

_Quietly, Kasumi padded out onto the crew deck, away from her little secluded sanctuary. part of her felt it was unfair that she got a room nearly the size of a stateroom all to herself. But then again, most of the "Ops team" had their own little areas that were their own. The Krogan, Merc and psycho in engineering. Lawson and her office. Mordin up in his lab, Garrus and his gunnery array, Delicious looking, but oh-so-dull Jacob in his armoury. Even the Drell and Asari had their own areas, although they were so sparse as to barely even register. Tali was the only real anomaly: she slept in the pods, fitting in with the crew rotation. Very typically Quarian. So kind, gentle and hard as iron when pushed. Especially if Shepard was involved._

_She wondered when the Commander was going to notice. Maybe a quiet word was necessary._

_It was the night rotation: the deck was empty. Even Gardner was off for the evening. It was only as she rounded the corner that she clocked the hunched figure at the mess table, staring at a full glass._

_She hadn't really spoken to Garrus much since that meeting. That'd had been nearly a month ago. They'd rushed across the Galaxy, saved Tali, saved so many others. And then Shepard had ordered the Ship to Bekenstein and fulfilled his promise. She knew that the two of them had been on the Citadel today. Something big; something to do with Garrus and Omega. She'd heard the reports, listened to the crew: the man had lost friends there and he clearly had blamed himself. Well, not entirely: rumours of a mole, someone who had betrayed them._

_Garrus hadn't noticed her, utterly fixated on the drink in front of him. Part of her considered backing away, leaving him to his thoughts; but she recognised the solitude there. It wasn't a healthy kind. Shepard would probably be around, stir him up, get him on his feet. But Shepard wasn't here now. And while Turian psychology wasn't exactly her thing, she decided that maybe she should try this whole "interacting" thing._

_"Hey," She suppressed a smile as Garrus almost knocked the drink over, practically swivelling in his chair, "Wow. Glad you weren't armed…."_

_The Turian flexed his mandibles and dipped his head, "Sorry, Kasumi. Bit distracted."_

_She slid into the chair opposite and frowned at him from underneath the hood, "Rough day?"_

_"I don't want to talk about it."_

_She shrugged, "Because brooding really helps."_

_"Works for you, doesn't it?" He hadn't looked up, but she could practically hear his mandibles click as he tried to bite down on the sentence. She stared at him, not quite sure how to respond, but garrus continued, "That… was a bad thing to say. I'm sorry."_

_Kasumi nodded and placed her hands on the table. The words had stung. But they were also uncomfortable because they were true: she was brooding. Absently she began tapping the tips of her fingers together, "Yeah. A little bit shitty. So why are you brooding, since you seem to know all about me?"_

_"Closure. "A blast from the past", as you humans would say. Remember when you came aboard, I told you how Shepard will always help you?" Garrus shook his head, "Well sometimes I wish he wouldn't help so much."_

_Kasumi sat back and tilted her head questioningly, "What, did he steal a kill? Set you up with an ex?"_

_Garrus shot her a look, but chuckled, "Heh, no. No. Just. We found the guy who… who got my men killed. Or rather we found the guy that fooled me into getting my men killed."_

_She saw him sag; the admission of fault a real gut puncher. She knew that Turians took honour and duty seriously, but to see it affect someone up close was a strange thing. She continued gently, "What happened?"_

_"I had him in my sights. I got Shepard to go and… to get him clear of civilians, so I could get a clean shot. But the Commander wouldn't let me. just stayed in my crosshairs, wouldn't let me take the shot." Garrus clenched his fists and shook his head, "I wanted closure. I wanted release. But… Shepard talked. He always talks."_

_"Not always. You saw him on Tuchanka with that Weyrloc guy…"_

_Garrus blinked at the subject change and splayed his hands, "Exactly! Why can he just blow up some ranting krogan but me, with my own missions? Why does he get all spirits damn pure?"_

_Kasumi watched the range of emotions flicker over the silvery and scarred face. here was a man who needed to get drunk, but quite clearly was so utterly controlled that he didn't dare. She looked down at the table, thinking back across the mission reviews, the briefings, the videos of the "man in action": The Commander, striding into hell every single time and dragging them back over the line._

_"Maybe because he knows he isn't," she looked Garrus in the eyes and smiled sadly, "And he wants us to be better."_

_Kasumi fished out the data disc from a pocket and laid it on the table. She stared at it for a long time. Garrus glanced from her to the device and spoke up, quietly._

_"Is that it?"_

_She nodded, "Yeah. He came through for me. Fought his way through mercenaries, robots and a gunship."_

_Garrus chuckled and Kasumi grimaced at him. The turian grinned at her._

_"Sounds like our reunion too. I think you came out of that one better though." She saw garrus adopt an expression of mock thoughtful-indignation. "Can't believe the bastard used me as a trial run!"_

_She clocked the similarities and snorted, "Oh I don't know. It gives you a certain mystique. Very Phantom of the Opera."_

_Garrus looked puzzled, "That didn't translate so well: Ghost of the throat song?" kasumi snorted again and shook her head._

_"It's a book. And a play. I'll lend it to you. Think you need more context - playing the hard mercenary card will not go down well with the girls."_

_"Hmm, yeah. Because that's my priority right now."_

_"Somebody's loss." She smiled and shrugged, then looked back down at the small device, "It's strange you bring this up. He let me make the choice at the end. Did he let you?"_

_Garrus shifted in his chair. He remembered: Shepard's words, Sidonis' bleating. The hollow sounds of the traitor's pleas. And yet, when he stared down the scope, watched as Shepard stood to one side, saw the near emptiness of the man for whom such righteous hatred burned within his chest… he realised his finger wouldn't pull the trigger._

_"It was my fault." Kasumi waited patiently, watching the Turian in case he.. .well, she wasn't sure. Garrus continued, "If I'd paid more attention; if I'd had better contingency plans…. I could've saved everyone. Maybe even Sidonis. I let them all down, even him. But… looking at the past won't change it. I need to own it and move on. Be better next time."_

_Slowly, he stood up and moved away from the table. He paused and looked back at Kasumi._

_"Thank you. I'm sure Shepard will be down to check on me."_

_"He does like to doing that…"_

_"It's because he cares. A hell of a lot." Garrus smiled, his mandibles flaring from his silvery face. There was no bitterness there, just sadness, "It's going to get him killed on day. Thanks again Kasumi. I just need some time to… think a little."_

_She smiled and folded her arms, "What were you doing before?"_

_He chuckled, "Brooding."_

_With a little nod, he turned and headed towards the forward battery. She watched him go and smiled, a strange sense of well-being in her chest. She looked down at the data disc and paused as she reached for it. Then, carefully, she picked it up, stood and walked to the waste disposal, dropping it in with a clunk._

_In her minds eye, her greybox flickered. Various memories were partitioned and stored, locked away. It was a start at least._

There was a hiss as the water feed terminated. Kasumi jolted from her reverie and smiled sadly. Shivering as the cold rushed back into greet her, she fished for her towel and set about entering the real world again. As she dressed, she trigger her grey-box and fished for a specific memory. The display flickered in front of her eyes - the merge between mental recollection and the actual live-feed of the recording.

_The room was opulent, but the space seemed so empty. She had filled it as best she could: prizes from old heists, paintings, even a bar. She had invited several people in to watch the triumphant speech from Tali's trial, Garrus having recorded it on his visor. There had been a rousing cheer. Tali had practically cringed, whilst getting knowing grins from most of the women and shoulder pats from the men._

_It was certainly strange, seeing how the crew had taken the aliens in. The sense of togetherness was palpable. The crowd had disappeared and hour ago, back to stations after a rather confused Shepard had entered and found them all watching. Tali had practically sprinted from the room, leaving a very disorientated Commander to follow her to engineering. EDI had interjected and told everyone that she was cutting the camera feeds and any attempts to tap into them would not be met kindly. She had added Kasumi's name at the end, for the extra little knife twist._

_So, now she was alone, content for the most part. But her books weren't entertaining her. The memories were locked away now: she was going cold turkey, but she didn't know why. Well, moving on, yes. But moving on to what?_

_She glanced up as the door hissed open. Garrus' head poked around the frame, "Uh, can I come in?"_

_She gestured for him to enter and smiled, "Weren't you here an hour ago?"_

_"Yeah, see - I'm not sure if this is a bar or a bunk room or a squatters den… thought I'd best check," he smiled and stepped inside, pointing at the bar with a querying incline of his head._

_"Help yourself."_

_"Thanks. Gardner's got no damn dextro-alcohol. Was going to try my luck here."_

_"Celebrating something?"_

_"Nah, just felt like having something that wasn't caffeine."_

_"I thought Turians didn't drink aboard ship?"_

_"Well… I feel the need."_

_"Something happen?"_

_She saw him sag at the bar, then turn his head to her, "Wow, i really need to learn not to telegraph."_

_"You're in here looking for booze, Garrus, just after you've finished shift. Kinda obvious somethings unsettled you."_

_He smirked, "You know my shifts? Been spying on me? I thought Jacob was your target of choice!"_

_She practically blushed and glared at him, "What… that is… he is a very well proportioned individual. But no taste in books. How'd you know…?"_

_"Remember the Asari on Ilium?"_

_"Be specific."_

_"Liara."_

_"'K, got you. What about her? I mean, I know she's the Shadow Broker… oh you didn't!"_

_Garrus grinned and leaned against the bar, a bottle of retrieved beer in his hand, "Yeah, interesting reading. Never knew you were one for poetry."_

_She stared at him, managing, "Haiku's. Yes."_

_"You're making this too easy, Goto. I mean, you always have the edge, sneaking about the place. Let us get a win in now and then. I promise Jacob doesn't know. Yet. Until he reads his extranet email."_

_She practically launched herself at him, finger poised threateningly at his face. She saw the glint in his eyes and relaxed, "Har har, very funny."_

_"I may be a devious and enigmatic stranger, but I'm not that much of an ass."_

_"I really wish I hadn't told you you had mystique."_

_"Speaking of which, I read that book." Garrus placed the bottle on the bar and fished another one out, human-spirits this time, offering it to Kasumi. She nodded and settled on the sofa as he poured her a measure, handing it to her, before returning to his bar perch._

_"Which one?"_

_"Opera Ghostman."_

_"Phantom of the opera."_

_"Yeah that one. Quite good don't really have… musical theatre as such. We do epics and there are comedic verses. Books? Plenty of epic scrolls and verse tomes -We've got some similar stories. Reminded me of "Menae's Following.""_

_Kasumi sipped at her drink and cocked her head, "What's that one?"_

_"It's an epic, meant to teach Turians about deception and the price of ambition."_

_"Ah. A morality tale. Your culture really goes in for that."_

_"Hey, I heard about your crack at Turian art - Shepard was being very… curious about it."_

_"It's hardly expressive is it? I mean," She gestured with a sweeping arm and then a shrug, "Loops and wheels and cogs. Symbolic. But soul?"_

_"Hrmph. Anyway, you want to hear about the story?"_

_"I want to hear what's bugging you, but you're good at deflection so I'll settle for legends._

_"Hmmm. Well, the story goes that a young Turian blacksmith creates a blade for a local Praetor. The craftsmanship is so beautiful that he realises he wants to keep the blade for himself. This blacksmith, he has this idea that he's a really good swordsman. So he starts to practice with the blade. And what do you know, he is really good. The local lord hears about him practicing in the dark woods under the moon's light and sends a spy to watch: she goes, but falls in love with the blacksmith."_

_Kasumi chuckled, "You Turians sure move fast." Garrus shrugged._

_"He was a good swordsman."_

_"Oh, bad pun."_

_"What? Ooooh. No. Um, well, maybe he was, the story doesn't… anyway. The spy approaches the blacksmith and realises who he is and who the sword is for. She says that with his skills he could easily advance in the lord's court. His skills with steel both in a forge and as a weapon make him someone to be feared."_

_"I think I can see where this is going," Kasumi settled down and drew her legs onto the sofa. Garrus blinked as she moved, watching her carefully. He coughed and took another sip, then continued._

_"Right, so they plan to give a blade to the lord. The spy promises to tell her lord that the blacksmith was testing the blade. In turn, he will also display his martial prowess. Thus getting advanced within the court. But there's another who was watching - the blacksmiths apprentice. He wants the spy for himself. So when the blacksmith returns to the forge, the apprentice hatches a plan to usurp his master and get the girl."_

_"Oh a twist!"_

_"No, this is just a story. No dancing."_

_"A plot twist."_

_"Ah, ok. So, the apprentice forges a replacement blade and switches them. When the blacksmith goes to show his prowess, the blade shatters and wounds the lord. He is imprisoned, the spy flees and the apprentice shows the original sword as his own work. He becomes the smith to the court. But his weapons and armour - they aren't any good. So he sneaks to his master and begs him to forge weapons on his behalf, in his cell. And so, for weeks, he keeps up the pretense. Pretending to be this great smith. But still, there is no spy: she has gone."_

_"Pf, some love she had."_

_"Wait. It gets better. Anyway, a wandering warrior comes to the Praetor's lands and asks to be taught the way of the smith. The lord, honoured by the request, orders the apprentice to teach the warrior. He panics and insists he can only do it in private. He pleads with his master for advice, but the master refuses. The apprentice threatens torture, then eventually that he will find the spy and have her killed. The blacksmith agrees. But he crafts in a flaw to the blades. He teaches the warrior, disguised as his apprentice, who speaks from the shadows. In the dim forge, the warrior, focused on his tasks, seems to not notice."_

_"Intrigue!"_

_"So, a day later, another warrior comes. Then another. All wanting to learn the art. The apprentice is under pressure. The forge is too small, too dim. But the blacksmith manages to help his apprentice. Finally, the Praetor orders that the warriors display their skills in the forge and show their weapons. They must test their steel against his in honourable combat."_

_"What, he's going to kill them?"_

_"No! Turians duelled until submission. Mostly. Sometimes death. Occasionally. Hardly ever. Anyway, the fights began. And every blade shattered: in exactly the same way. The warriors were outraged: feeling that the local lord was cheating them. The Lord, ashamed, turned to his smith: for it was his responsibility to appoint those worthy. But the apprentice, outraged, denied responsibility and revealed his plot, intending to blame his master…"_

_"That was… dumb."_

_"Yeah, not so deep on the character side. Morality tale?"_

_"Fiiine. I can critique it later."_

_"So, the plot revealed, the warriors withdraw their complaint against the lord and it is revealed that they are the brothers of the spy, sent to test the apprentice, to show him for a liar and a fool. She knew the blacksmith, who paid attention to detail and was so careful in everything, would likely recognise the clan markings, but the apprentice, who only thought of himself, would not. She returns to court, the apprentice is banished and the Praetor releases the blacksmith and oversees the ceremony of the spy and the blacksmith's wedding. And so, happy ending, duty upheld, a deception overthrown and responsibilities acknowledged."_

_"...sort of similar to Phantom, yes."_

_"What? It's got the pretending, the sun-scarred lovers, the whole…"_

_"Star crossed."_

_"Ok, fine, the translator isn't perfect."_

_Kasumi grinned at Garrus, "Look at you. I never took you for a literary man."_

_"Let me guess? Stick up my ass, talks about weapon mods too much? The good Turian?"_

_"No. A darn good soldier. Just never… at ease," She spoke gently and smiled, "It's a good look."_

_Garrus harrumphed, but smiled, eyes fixed on his beer. Kasumi chewed her lip and spoke again, "So, what's bothering you?"_

_The Turian sighed, "Yeah, need to keep working on that deflection… it's my sister. Just got a mail."_

_"Family problems?"_

_"Sort of. I just… I haven't really seen them in over a year. Lots of… bad blood there at the moment."_

_"Did you reply?"_

_"What? And show them this?" He gestured at the scar and sagged, "BEcause that'll make a whole world of difference. No, Kas, I think… I just needed some headspace. Not sure what to do next. Don't want to go in and make another mistake."_

_"It's family. It's never really permanent. And they probably miss you. It's been a year."_

_"Yeah, maybe. But this isn't fair, you're always listening Kas."_

_"Well, to be fair, you did come here, so I can't claim much responsibility."_

_Garrus chuckled and gave a half-hearted shrug, "Yeah. I guess I needed a friend. And Shepard is rather… well, frankly it's rather sickening."_

_Kasumi practically squeed, a hand flying up to her mouth, "He hasn't!"_

_Garrus made a disgusted noise, "I knew you'd be happy. Yeah, finally worked it out for himself. For such a switched on guy, he really is a bit slow on the uptake."_

_Kasumi held up a hand, "I don't care, whatever, this is deserving of a high five."_

_Garrus frowned and tentatively reached across and patted her hand, "Well, three I can manage."_

_"Good enough!"_

_"Listen, Kas, sorry. I shouldn't have barged in like this. Just… thanks for listening."_

_Kasumi stood up and hugged the Turian: he was all ridges and bone, but very warm. The drink was clearly a lot stronger than she'd realised. She pulled away and nodded slowly, "Anytime, G. Anyway, I got a good story out if it fair trade. So, just send your sis that email, build some bridges. Take a risk and don't plan." She leant up and gave him a peck on the cheek, "Use the Vakarian charm."_

_She blinked and blushed suddenly, then turned and headed to the back of the room, sitting on the sofa, a little bit further away. Garrus coughed, "Uh, yeah. Charm, erm. Sister. Yeah, not going to happen."_

_"Knows you too well?"_

_"Yeah, uh… so, um, any more books you could recommend?" She looked at him. He was still looking at the beer, which he finished in one swig. They shared a glance and she managed a smile: her heart was thumping really fast for some reason._

_"I've got a few. Tried Shakespeare? Or maybe some.. um, any particular genre?"_

_"Shakespeare? Warrior poet?"_

_"Sort of? Well, less warrior, more poet. I can… I can lend you some of his…" She leaned over the sofa's back and fished a couple of tomes from the bookshelf. Turning back she saw garrus' eyes swivel away, evidently having been watching her. carefully, she stood and approached him, proffering the books, "They aren't data, so you may have to… translate through the tool. But they're pretty clear-text."_

_Garrus gingerly took the books and nodded slowly, "Uh, thank you. I will… I will read read them. And if they remind me of something I'll ah…"_

_"I'd like that."_

_Garrus nodded again and smiled, "Thanks for letting me use the bar, Kas. I know it's a bit of an intrusion. I'll ah, let you get back to it…"_

_She wanted to protest, to ask him to stay, but the words weren't quite there. His sudden awkwardness felt alien, more-so than him. Garrus paused, the books clutched to him like a shield, then bent down and planted an awkward version of a human kiss against her cheek. She blinked, surprised. The Turian nodded again._

_"And thank you for the reminder of my duty. I appreciate you being such a good friend."_

_Was there sadness in that last word? Did she feel disappointed? But the door was already sliding shut and the room felt empty again._

Walking from the shower block, Kasumi allowed herself a little smile. A sad memory, in a way, but also a memory of hope. That was the point she had really realised. And it was a nice reminder, something to make her know that there were good parts of the universe still.

A large explosion beyond the FOB's reinforced barricades rocked the ground. kasumi stumbled, nearly hitting the floor. She looked up to see Klin practically sprinting towards her.

"Goto, gear up!"

"What the -" she saw the look of shock and surprise on the Krogan's face: a rare thing indeed.

"No time. We're under attack!"

* * *

**Not splitting the "areas" on this one, as it is all, technically, taking place in one scene!**

As ever, thoughts on a post card. Hope everyone likes and, as I promised, I will go back and edit if there are glaring faults.

The story here is supposed to be a vague reflection of The Phantom of the Opera. A VERY Vague reflection: betrayal, someone pretending to be talented whilst really someone else's skills get used. Credit to Gaston Leroux for the original novel and Andrew Lloyd Webber for the Musical!

**May even write out Menae's following as a proper short story! Will see what you all think!**


	6. Chapter 6 - Reclamation

Garrus sat at the head of the briefing terminal, scanning through the terminal in front of him. The data streaming past surprised him, almost unbelievable in its audacity. After reading through the tenth report, he was practically seething. He managed to keep his temper in check as the first of the command group began to file in. That it was Grunt and Zaeed tempered his irritation a little more. Zaeed broke the silence with a laugh.

"God damn Garrus, didn't expect to see you walk in swinging punches. Nice to see that arsehole taken down a peg. Damn Turian."

Grunt chuckled, a low rumbled that sounded like boulders being ground together. The young tank-bred had really come into his own during the conflict: What Garrus had seen of him on the field had both impressed him and scared the crap out of him.

"Yeah; expected you to be all drunk on the hero of the hour stuff. It true what happened out there?"

Garrus nodded slowly, "Yeah. We watched him run. Saw him go into that beam. Then the Reapers went all…" Garrus made a wavy motion with a hand, then shrugged. Grunt chuckled.

"If anyone was going to make those overgrown sea-monsters commit suicide, it'd be my battlemaster. A good death then. How he'd have wanted it."

Garrus managed to bite back that he doubted that: Grunt had his own views and Shepard had played to them a bit. Watching the Commander on Tuchanka had been an education: seeing him let loose and acting a bit more aggressive was surprising, but the Krogan culture called for that, not words and diplomacy. It had gotten Grunt into clan Urdnot a lot quicker and had earned the Krogan's respect. He hadn't doubted they'd have loved Shepard one way or another, but speaking in someone's language, especially body language, always helped.

_A face screwed up in concentration, a series of murmured growls and clicks. He remembered being surprised at the sound and had seen her, leaning against the bulkhead, reading aloud from a datapad. The thoughts of a few days prior bubbled to the surface: his confusion, the strange sense of camaraderie and belonging. And now she was reading a book. In Turian!_

General Vakarian pushed the memory aside - time to reminisce when people weren't being hung out to dry, "Guys, you know me. We have two minutes before the rest of those commanders walk in here with their game-plan and excuses. I can see things are bad from these reports. What the hell has been going on?"

Grunt settled against a wall and shook his head, "You aren't going to like it, Vakarian."

Zaeed nodded, "The Asari and Salarians are helping out, but they didn't bring much to the table. Human garrisons are stretched thin, across the world and the Sol colonies. We had a lot of troops out in the Traverse and the Terminus systems, fighting evacuation actions on colony worlds. The bulk of the forces got spread out across the main bases on Earth…"

Garrus could tell the man was being evasive, which was damn strange for Zaeed, "Get to the point, I said."

The merc grimaced, "The Turians are holding out. 100,000 infantry held in orbit on the fleet ships, waiting to be deployed. Another 250,000 in this base and across the planet, but being held in camp. Give or take the odd Legion."

Garrus blinked and looked at Grunt, "The Krogan..?"

"Answer to me. Well, Wrex, but I'm his appointed Battlemaster on the ground. I represent the honour of Tuchanka!" The tank-born slapped his fists together and grinned. Garrus couldn't help but smile a little. Grunt continued, "But the Turians won't provide air support for missions on the ground. There's a lot of entrenched positions and even we can't power through."

The admission seemed to bother him, so Garrus looked at Zaeed. The Merc shrugged, "I just control the freelancers. Most of the mercs pulled out, so Aria can keep an eye on 'em. Others went rogue and now we're fighting them as well. The Alliance troops are bunkered down, doing what they can in the FOBs, but there's a whole planet to secure. national militaries are scattered, the chain of commands is arse over tit. Lots of little jurisdictions."

"So… what? The Turians don't want to fight? Or help? is it logistics? Weapons? Rations?"

Zaeed shrugged, "No real reason. Keep getting told that they're a strategic reserve. The Alliance are having kittens about it. Struggling to clear small population centers, let alone cities. They've retaken Paris, though we lost a good two thousand to remnant forces."

"Two thousand dead?" Garrus was horrified. Zaeed nodded and pursed his lips.

"Yeah, that was when the Turians pulled back. After the city was secured. Took a month, street sweeping, clearing the catacombs, the metro-lines. Had to nerve gas some areas, neurotoxin the husks and indoctrinated. Hell, even had a few functional Reaper devices. Those got shot at from orbit. Not taking chances with that crap."

Grunt nodded and stood upright, "Makes my scales itch. Waiting. We can't even get steady supply lines into the Forward bases: pirates have moved in, we're fighting daily to keep air superiority. No ships, just damn AA everywhere. And the Remnants take pot shots at everything. They're running outta ammo, but not fast enough. The bases are surviving, but they're turning into scavenger sites. The humans have at least fifty identified refugee camps inside the city, not all secured. Sometimes a camp just… vanishes."

"This is an absolute clusterf-" Garrus clamped his jaw shut as the door slid open again. The rest of the command team filed in. The Turian Brigadier looked stony and defiant, but walked cautiously. The Salarian, human and Asari stood to one side, while the Batarian took up station near Zaeed. There was a faint whirr as a Geth followed the group in, fixing its ocular on Garrus. He still found the things a tad creepy. Even threatening: mowing your way through hundreds of the damn things had a weird way of steeling you to what they were: sapient beings. He drummed his fingers on the desk, eyeing each of them, gathering his thoughts. The silence hung in the air, growing thicker by the moment. When he finally spoke, it was with a leaden tone.

"We have approximately half a million soldiers on this continent. Another half a million or so in orbit and Spirits knows how many scattered in the system. We have fought and died and lost so many… and yet all I see now are daily reports on casualties that are still mounting; of non combatants being slaughtered in the streets; and of the fact that our vehicles are at least operating at 95% efficiency."

He stood up abruptly and leaned across the table, head swiveling to look at each commander. Only the Geth, Zaeed and Grunt didn't flinch. The Turian managed to force himself to look back at Garrus, trying to remain defiant. Vakarian continued.

"Street fighting is _hard._ I know: you're there, hand to hand one moment, quietly trying to find that damn sniper the next. But we have overwhelming firepower. We have people willing to do damn near _anything_ for their friends and we have the _time_ now. We don't have giant space roaming nightmares to contend with. Just their offshoots and a few profiteering mercs. So. Please. Someone explain why the hell we have damn near a million troops just getting rack time?"

_"The mass relay is nearly operational."_ This was from the Geth. It looked at Garrus, then fixed on the other Turian, _"This is what you had previously stated, correct, Brigadier Lanius?"_

The Brigadier glowered at the Geth and shrugged. The Geth looked back to Garrus and continued, simply, _"When it is operational, the gateway to home is opened."_

Garrus gawped. He looked from the Geth to the Turian, "You're just waiting?"

Lanius shifted and took on an "at ease" pose, then addressed Garrus directly, "You said yourself: we beat them. This is now no longer a war-scenario, as we joined. This is a domestic matter. My duty is the preservation of Palaven and its future. That means getting as many of our fellows home as we can. We will support domestic reclamation operations as is our duty to our allies, but jurisdiction over pacified…"

Garrus' fist slammed into the table, "Does it _look_ pacified out there? Does it look like this is over? Is this now just a matter of disaster clean up? Because it looks like there are still enemies on the ground. And instead of making gains on strategic areas, you're running retrieval operations on dead Reapers _without_ air support; without ground penetration!"

"This is a human matter and a matter for contractors on the gr-"

"A _human_ matter? So Then the humans shouldn't have intervened with Palaven? Shouldn't have rescued our Primarch when the communications went down on Menae?"

"That was a different…"

"And I suppose a human throwing himself to die to save every. Single. Damn. One of us has no bearing?"

"That was a definitive military engagement with a set obj-"

"And _you_." Garrus, cut the Turian Brigadier off and fixed on the Geth, "You would be nothing but a pile of scrap right now if a certain human hadn't stepped in and sorted out your damn logic bomb of a war."

_"We understand. However, we have priorities."_

"Yeah, I'm sure. In the interests of ensuring that the right people get the first shuttles out of here when things go from bad to worse, tell me what those are."

The Geth twitched its head: the cowl over its flashlight of an ocular was augmented with flaps, not dissimilar to those that had once been on Legion: they augmented the usual Geth emotionless, by inflecting and arching, giving an impression of emotional input.

_"Now that the Creators have returned, it is our duty to preserve them."_

Garrus paused. He glanced at the room and leaned back, "Now there's a change. Didn't expect that."

_"We must ensure a stable population. The mistakes of the Morning War will not be repeated."_

"So you speak for the Quarians as well?"

The Geth unit shifted slightly and Garrus gave a sigh. Those AI upgrades they'd gotten had released them from the shackles of needing more Geth units nearby to augment their processing, but they were also now a little more… organic in their thinking. He had to remind himself that the platform in front of him consisted of maybe several thousand individual Geth, forming a gestalt personality. He waited, letting the Turian Brigadier fume to one side. The Geth eventually continued.

_"We speak with their interests in mind."_

"But you do not represent them."

"No."

_"You are, in fact, speaking for your own people as well."_

"Yes."

"Without actually consulting them?" Again the pause. Garrus pushed a little harder, "Has consensus been achieved?"

The machine's flaps flared - evidently surprised. The fact that it let it slip was also surprising. Garrus waited. The Geth spoke again.

_"No."_

"What do your people want?"

_"To be safe."_

"If a platform is disabled, then your programs can just transfer, surely?"

"The transmissions on this world are too cluttered with junk data. There are not enough wavelengths. Perspective would be lost."

"You're afraid." And Garrus looked between the Turian and the Geth. Neither met his eyes; again, surprising, "Well, damn." He eyed the Brigadier, who was still fuming. He had watched soldiers now, for a while. He knew tension when he saw it. The other Commanders were silent. The tension was still taught when the door hissed open and Alenko and Liara entered. They moved quietly around the table. Alenko noded quietly at Garrus, whilst Liara handed him a data-pad. Garrus scanned it briefly and frowned.

"One of the FOBs is under attack," he looked around the room, "Not a raid, or chancing fire. Proper massed assault. And now, thanks to the indecision of this Command group, the ability to provide long range support is compromised."

Carefully he laid down the pad. The Turian Brigadier twisted his head, but kept still, "They are soldiers. They will do their du…"

"You can shut the hell up. You are a coward and a disgrace to the species," Garrus' voice was low, monotone, "This isn't_ pirates_. It's _husks_. They're attacking with tactics and indoctrinated, according to that report. Which implies a guiding strategic mind. Which, considering their nature…"

"A _Reaper_," This came from the Asari commander. She was almost trembling. Anger, fear, he couldn't tell. She snarled at the Brigadier, "You and your protectionism. Your _hate_. You think we don't see. Well now look. We might be up against a Reaper! After all this!"

Lanius looked ill, "I… I didn't…"

"Everyone out. NOT you two. I want contingencies. We have forty Mantis Gunships on standby. God knows how many infiltration units, tanks and ground troops. I wants a full task force ready to go ASAP: strike teams, fast movers on the ground. We need a rapid reaction team there to support the FOB. Artillery if we can manage it. Grunt, the Krogan have the biggest guns, get on it. Zaeed, get your best teams, i want them in the troop transports. No shuttles. We're not taking the city: this is just a straight run."

Alenko stepped forward, "The Normandy can provide air support and spotting."

"It's a big target," Garrus frowned, "Risky, you'll be in one spot, not just doing flyover."

"Yeah, but we still have that Reaper IFF."

Garrus grinned and slapped the Spectre on the shoulder, "Niiiice. The ground troops won't be able to target you. At least not effectively."

"Hell, it's how we got your assess off world with Harbinger right in front of us."

The rest of the command team looked non-plussed. Garrus shot them all a look, "Well? Move it people. We have troops on the ground. No one gets left behind. GO!"

They all practically sprinted from the room,l Alenko and Liara filing after them, heading for the Normandy, radioing ahead as they moved. Garrus turned to the Geth and the Turian who remained. Lanius was practically shaking with shock. Garrus almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

He walked around the table until he stood in front of the Turian, eyeballing him.

"So. Not just about the honour the race, right? Wonderful. I have a full blown racist in my command team."

Lanius shot him a look, part defiance, part surprise, "I am a loyal soldier. I do my duty. My personal opinions do not…"

"They have every impact, you arrogant son of a bitch. Yeah, saving our troops: you'd be the man with the gratitude of a thousand families. The man who brought them home. And, it just so happens, the man who left humanity to wither on the vine."

Lanius squared his shoulders, "They will survive, they always do. Shanxi, the Citadel. We gave them so much, you now want to give them our sons and daughters… The will… they would've…" The man was shaking, pain in his eyes.

"Yeah, all different now. Amazing how a bit of danger shifts the paradigm. Whoever you lost at Shanxi… I'm sorry. But now they are our allies. They have paid in blood to be so. I think that our fellows would gladly repay that debt. Now, both of you want out, I'll happily kick your asses out of my camp right now. Because two weak links in this chain will kill a lot of people. I want you to consider something first.." He walked back around the table and faced them, planting the palms of his hands on the table. The pair watched him, almost hypnotised, "What if, after all this, after the relay is repaired… what if it doesn't work?"

Silence. The Turian blinked, as if trying to process the thoughts, "But… why wouldn't it?"

_"You are factoring in the possibility that, due to the construction of the Relays in a manner similar to the Reapers that, just as the Reapers are permanently disabled, so might the Relays."_

"Got it in one. Now, if that's the case, what next? Because there are at least three million Quarians under arms up there. With only enough food to really support them. They didn't bring all their live-ships. And they're the only people who eat the same as we do."

The Turian blinked, "We could… " he sagged, "We could request territory on planet, utilise…"

"No, we couldn't. Because the planet isn't secured. And now you have to use troops in construction. What if the weather turns, or a crop fails? We're five months behind schedule. Five months less rations, no resupply. The humans are still fighting and now we have to help, but our troops are weak because its a year later and our people are on starvation diets to ensure enough supplements. The Quarians run out of spares for their ships, for their suits. They start dying off because, despite the Geth, they're out of antibiotics that work. And maybe, just maybe, because it gets out that the Turians _abandoned_ the Humans after the humans got the KROGAN to help us… you just burnt up any potential goodwill out there."

Garrus straightened and shrugged. The Geth dipped its cowl.

Lanius interjected, "We could… we could petition for one of the planets…"

"None of which are garden worlds. Good luck there. We have no logistical support, Lanius. No backup chain. The whole point of this being established was so that everyone had a beach-head, somewhere to at least recover until we worked a way out."

The Geth spoke up, the synthesised voice subdued, _"We will ask for consensus. I will stand down as liaison."_

Lanius gave a shuddering sigh, "I will… resign my post. I will not…"

"No. Neither of you will. You will correct your mistakes. Lanius, you will go out there and you will do your duty to our comrades, to your people, to the memory of those who have died already. Geth… whatever your name is…"

"_We are Omen."_

"Yeah because that isn't the most ominous thing I've heard all day. Anyway, you are going to get Geth units involved with every strike team: we need instant communication and synchronisation. Attached several units to the Krogan artillery: we need pinpoint accuracy, on target and quickly. Now, prove to me you have the damn guts to do this."

Lanius seemed torn between shame, rage and perhaps shock. He dropped his head. "But you're just… a stripling…."

"A stripling and a whelp who outranks you and has done a damn sight more for the Hierarchy. So suck it up soldier and start acting like a Brigadier. Be professional. Do your clan the honour you know you can. Or quit."

Lanius visibly jerked. He saluted crisply, nodded and strode from the room. The Geth watched Garrus for a moment more and followed. Vakarian strode out into the command room, which was again a hive of activity. On a viewscreen he saw the Normandy taking off, four mantis gunships already airborne peeling off to follow in the frigate's wake. Kaidan was being shrewd: keep the gunships in the sensor blanket, so they wouldn't get targeted either.

He approached a harried looking Corporal who was handling the comms chatter with the besieged FOB. There were several troopers, dealing with incoming radio and secured-extranet traffic. He tapped the Corporal on the shoulder.

"Patch me into a wide band transmission: all units based in the London area."

The Junior NCO goggled at him, then nodded slowly. She looked young, for a human, but began flicking through the communication systems with practiced efficiency. A holographic window sprang to life, indicating that Garrus was "on air". He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

"All units in the London Area of Operations…."

* * *

The sound of the heavy cannons was near deafening. There were at least five arrayed along each wall of the FOB. The base itself was a mixed construction of re purposed rubble, prefabs, blast shields and reinforced abandoned buildings. They were near what had been called the Barbican, the FOB occupying a small open park on "Fortune Street". They'd sealed road entrances and taken possession of some apartment blocks. The roof of the block had the comms arrays, along with a basic shuttle-pad. They relied more on ground resupply now, what with the skies being a little bit more dangerous.

Kasumi scrambled across the open courtyard of the FOB, following Klin. The rest of the squad was huddled in one of the bunkers. Rogila wasn't there: she had headed to the walls, to put her sharpshooting to good use. Lt Sharrocks was leaning against a wall, going over his omni tool. Everyone else was also suited and ready to go. Kasumi could see the worry on their faces.

"Whats going on? Klin seems spooked."

"Its husks…" this from Lizzie. Kasumi frowned.

"Husks? They charge and you mow 'em down…." but she knew she sounded uncertain herself.

Sharrocks looked up, "Not so simple, Goto. There's indoctrinated out there too: using tactics, sniping at the walls. It's only being going on five minutes, but they hit our outer sentries hard. Got a Brute pounding at the gate: guns can't get a fix on it."

"But… tactics means…"

"Yeah." The Lt looked very worried, "The HQ is holding us back; mortars are doing what they can, wall gunners are keeping the husks back. The odd marauder out there as well. Some of the damn husks look fresh."

"Aw crap." Kasumi slumped against a wall and ran a hand into her hair. Right now, she just wanted to crawl into a memory and hide there, "But they can't get in?"

"Not yet. This looks like a probing attack, to see what reaction they'll get…"

"Freakin' nothing is what. Camp Hope won't send anything." Lizzie looked at the blank faces around her, "What? They won't. Damn Turians getting all prissy."

"Not their fault their CO's a whiny Quarian... No offense Teel." Klin rumbled a chuckle with a little embarrassment. Teel shrugged.

"None taken. We do hate getting a "tummy-ache"". Bullet wounds get more guys anyway."

"So, Lt, what's our plan?"

Sharrock's frowned at his omni tool and then looked up at Kasumi, "Wait to see if they get in. The compound here has plenty of internal redundant defensive points. Bunkers. The usual. We anticipated that we might get swarms. If they get in, the rest of the platoons hold them off, push them back. Then we spearhead out, track them back to where they came from."

"Back to the… well, y'know." Lizze shivered, her heavy weapon rattling.

"Might not be that bad. Might be one of those damn artefacts just going hyper." Teel managed a faint shrug.

"God let's hope so." Kasumi could hear the hope in their heavy's voice and reached over to lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, we'll be fine. It's just strange. Out of the ordinary. that's gonna shake us up."

"Yeah. Maybe. Just… thought we were done with the war. Just doing the cleanup."

"Well, it'll be fine."

"I just wish that the brass'd do more."

Their radios all static'd at the same time, causing everyone to wince.

"What the hell…?" Sharrock was cut off as a voice burst across all frequencies

_"...ndon Area of Operations…. this is General Garrus Vakarian. I have assumed Command of Camp Hope under orders of the Systems Alliance, Admiralty Board, Geth Consensus, The Turian Hierarchy, Clan Urdnot, the Asari Republics and the Salarian STG, as well as the backing of the Council."_

Kasumi stared straight ahead, her jaw slack. Lizzie frowned at her then grinned as Klin nudged her.

_"We have reports of an assault on a FOB in the Eastern London AO. I am here to tell you: No more. We are coming for you. To any hostiles on this network: be warned. We will bring down hell."_

Outside came the sound of several massive explosions, all beyond the walls of the FOB: pinpoint accurate impacts from Krogan artillery. they could hear their own guns slowing as the artillery kept the enemy pinned. Teel gasped.

"They… they must've tied the Geth into the targeting. But how? I thought we weren't getting a solid signal."

The air rippled with the roar of engines. The squad peered out from their bunker: high above, the familiar silhouette of the Normandy came into view. Fire arced up towards it, but strangely seemed to track around the vessel, as if the enemy couldn't quite keep their focus on it. Four shapes dropped from the shadow of the vessel: Mantis gunships, descending in a blaze of mass driver fire and rocket contrails. Slowly the fire dwindled as the four gunships jinked and dived around, easily dodging fire. They could hear a whooping from the walls.

_"I repeat: All Forward operating bases: hold the line. We are coming. No one is getting left behind. This is Earth: this is where we beat them; this is where Commander Shepard led the way. And I will not let you go quietly. We showed the Reapers once. Let's finish the job. Hold. The. Line. Garrus Vakarian, out."_

* * *

**_I hope you enjoyed this little piece! Let me know what you think of the "rousing speech". I wasn't sure whether to make it longer. But I think it works. Garrus isn't that talky, despite what he's doing here with the Brigadier and the Geth. I'm trying to avoid him sounding too like Shepard. But then again, he only really has one role model for leadership!_**


	7. Chapter 7 - Foreshadow

The squad emerged, still staring up at the sky. The gunships were drifting away, clearing the surrounding streets methodically. The fire that lanced up was sporadic now, the main thrust of the assault having seemingly been beaten back. The LT was quick off the mark, his gruff British accent cutting through their wonder.

"Right, no time to stare gents and ladies. The Major wants us out there getting some intel. Quick battle orders: Alamein Company and Blenheim will be supporting our flanks. We're the recce element."

Lizzie leaned over to Kasumi, "That's "recon" to us non-limeys."

"Shut it Deakin. Right, Teel, you're my ammo runner. Try to use the in-built heat dissipators, wait for the weapons to cool. Heat sinks for if we get pinned. We're out in fifteen. Grab your gear, hit the QM for rations. Klin, you're on that. ROGILA!"

"Here boss!" The Batarian slid down an access ladder nearby,. Her visor went from opaque to clear and she grinned, "Hell, thought we were down there. Had five more Brutes heading for the gate. One sweep by those Mantis' and POW. Gone. We heading boss?"

"Head to HQ, we need the net channels for direct comms to Camp Hope. Seems the new General needs to know why there's a sudden shift. Can't let this go cold. Goto, QM - get what you need from Sig-Int, go with Rogila. get what you need tech wise to hunt for Reaper. Right people, move with a purpose."

Kasumi glanced around then nodded, padding after the sniper. The Batarian shot her a sly grin, "So…. the boyfriend's back?" Her grin widened as the thief punched her shoulder.

* * *

Garrus stepped away from the comm. Outside he could hear the revving of engines: things were moving. He had no illusions: a full scale advance would take a good couple of days to organise _minimum._ But a quick strike? That was easy. Now it was time to actually come up with a plan. Luckily, he was good at those. The key to making sure it worked was getting said plan out quick enough; give your commanders time to tweak it to mission realities and to factor in their own problems, then brief their own troops.

Keep everyone in the loop. Big ticket strategy.

He was getting used to it. With Shepard it was all tactics: quick-shot engagements. Straight lines and problems to shoot through. Now he had to worry about ammo resupply, heat-sink rationing, routes in and out, casualty evacuation. As he looked around the room, he managed a grin.

Not entirely true. He had _peopl_e to worry about the specifics. He just had to put the general plan out there. So, maybe it wasn't so bad. He glanced back to the communications desk as the Corporal turned to him.

"Initial contact reports: hawk one reports positive target id: twelve indoctrinated with assorted small arms, ten marauders, thirty three husks. Five brutes. Two indoctrinated snipers… hawk three confirms kill." The Corporal acknowledged another report, the minutes ticked by. Around, other comms channels crackled as other FOBS reported in, no issues. The Corporal piped upo again:"Major Atkins at FOB Inkerman reports area cleared. He's got two companies gearing up to secure the streets. His third is in reserve."

"Inform the major that we need eyes on the threat. Does he have scouting elements? Any STG augmentees?"

The Corporal consulted her terminal, "Just a couple of scout squads - Search and Salvage."

"Get them on the ground as soon as clear-up allows. We need to backtrack the threat, make sure there aren't any surprises out there."

"Understood sir…. FOB Inkerman, this is Alpha Hope zero zero one…."

Garrus turned and headed back to the central desk. He gestured to one of the techs, "Bring me a map of the South east urban quadrant… thanks. Right, highlight cleared routes."

The map lit up, showing several major access routes in. The "M20" was the major point of interest. it lead from the Camp to the forward Garrison: Bastion. This FOB was a major staging point for entry to London, sat on the edge of the Capital - right on the edge of Maidstone, one of London's outer boroughs.

"Right, we're going to do a two dimensional recreation of the Victory fleet. Get the Battalion Commanders in here. Time for some planning."

* * *

_They had sat aboard the Orizaba. garrus had been staring at the fleet deployment on the screen. The memories of the night previously playing in his mind. A human form draped across him. The scenario playing out on the holo display showed the fleet splitting, much like the mechanical tendrils of a Reaper, to envelop the Reaper fleet. That was the plan._

_A Volus nearby huffed, "I don't understand hssshk why we don't just go in and unload everything we have on them. We have the ships!"_

_Garrus had sighed and nudged the squat figure, gesturing at the map, before speaking in a hushed tone so as to not disrupt the briefing._

_"Because we'd get cut to ribbons. The Reapers could close in and use our proximity against us. Wreck enough ships and we'll spend enough time trying to avoid wrecks as much as the damn Reapers. This way we split their forces, don't allow them to bunch up and slice us to pieces. keeps the dreadnoughts at long range to provide artillery support, let's the frigates close in with Thanix and the fighters to occupy their drones."_

_"But… they have no point defence! We could overwhelm them!"_

_"They bunch up, they share kinetic barrier strength. They rely on the oculus drones for point defence. this way, we split the fighter force as well, keeps them away from the bulk of our fleet, minimises our reliance on GARDIAN. The humans have enough carriers and fighters to engage the oculus and to also harass the sovereign ships."_

_A lithe figure settled down next to him. He felt an arm wrap nervously around his. He turned his attention from the clueless Volus. Blue eyes met brown. She managed a weak smile._

_"Hey."_

_He flexed his mandibles, eyes lost in hers for a moment, "Hey…"_

_"You left early."_

_"Didn't want to wake you. We'll have enough… chaos soon. I didn't want…"_

_She reached up and touched his face, her smile a little more strained, "I could've done with waking up next to you."_

_He leaned into her hand and her smile seemed to relax a little, "I know… I'm sorry. I just needed… to know what was happening here. And I couldn't guarantee actually getting to the meeting if I saw you wake up..."_

_"Always the soldier," she smiled slyly. He chuckled. Kasumi slipped her hand away and looked at the map, "So, that's the plan?"_

_"Yeah, split the Reapers. They don't turn so well, but they have powerful guns. Keep the bigs ships at range, get fighters to pepper their kinetic barriers, overload them. Frigates slice with thanix. Hopefully a lot of dead Reapers."_

_"Yeah… we went over the Crucible data… some interesting stuff. You know, the Reapers never fought a fully organised galaxy of races? They had resistance from powerful races… but not this many at once."_

_"So… we have no idea how they'll react?"_

_"None. They're used to being in control, locking the relays."_

_"Thank the spirits for that IFF…"_

_Kasumi grinned, "Yep. Skeleton key. And it should help out here."_

_"Why? EDI said that intel had noted the Reapers had keyed that IFF signal as hostile? Even if the Relays now let our ships through…."_

_"Yeah. But it marks it as "Hostile: Normandy." she gave him a cat-that-got-the-cream grin. Garrus gawped._

_"So, when we jump in…"_

_"They'll see one hundred thousand ships all marked as "Normandy"."_

_"And they won't know which one is real?"_

_"Or which ones to prioritise. They'll work it out as we get closer enough to ping, but still: they work fast, but painting all those targets, that's going to be a lot of data to process. May give enough of an edge."_

_The briefing hard turned to the next steps: clear the Reaper fleet in orbit. The Crucible and support fleet would hang near Pluto as resupply and salvage, pulling ships out of the fight when necessary and also acting as a rear guard in case the Reapers pulled in reinforcements through the Charon relay. Each fleet would also have several Geth vessels acting to co-ordinated targeting subroutines: all shots would be focused on a single Reaper per split fleet at a time. Overload their mass effect cores, whittle them down. Once a path had been cleared, Hammer team would deploy toward London, with the Dreadnoughts providing support fire onto planet-side Reapers: whilst planetside, their kinetic barriers were massively reduced. Easy targets. The key was to hit hard and fast, push the Reapers back and cripple as many as possible._

_Panic them, if that was possible._

_The briefing droned on for a bit, before Hackett closed down with the words:_

_"People, this is going one hell of a knife fight one way or another. We're going to lose people. I want to say right now: it is an honour to be here. To fight alongside representatives of every race. To see you standing side by side. We hit the Relay in ten hours. Grab some rack time. See to your gods. Get yourselves ready. Because we're about to kick these damn monsters where it hurts. We're going to show them we won't roll over and become part of their twisted game. Thank you and God speed. And heaven help those damn abominations when we come a knockin'."_

_Kasumi looked at Garrus forlornly, "Back to the Normandy?"_

_He sighed then glanced at her. With a sly grin of his own, he said: "In about nine hours, maybe…."_

* * *

It was two hours later. The room was pretty crowded, with the senior commanders re-summoned and arrayed around the map, the various augmentees and supporting commanders behind them. The senior officers had gone over intel, weighed up supplies and troop dispositions and presented it to Garrus. He had the framework. Now to brief the rest of the major unit commanders. So many curious faces. So much… expectation. Now he knew how Hackett must've felt.

No. This was no where _near_ that. But he hoped it was as close as he'd get. Garrus gestured up at the map.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a clear Aim: to secure London, in order to establish a safe haven on the planet for future operations. Our Mission: to secure the Forward operating Bases, to enable ongoing operations in the built up areas. I don't need to remind you, we need to make gains here. There is the probability of a resurgent threat. Our advance will be directed along several key routes, relieving the FOBs in turn, whilst establishing secure supply routes and ousting hostile presences en route. We need to punch into the city, but it needs to be a sustained 're going in four stages: Initial push to secure beach-heads, to clear the routes; then to clear adjacent areas to open an air corridor. Third stage, branch out, clearing routes to the FOBs. Fourth stage: Consolidation."

The map lit up as a thin line stretched from Hope to Bastion. From there it continued onwards, splitting into three at the Old London orbital: the M25. There, one followed the route around to the south, before leaving the orbital and heading west towards a region called "Croydon". The northern branch headed up, crossing the Thames at Dartford. It then moved north west, heading towards Romford, moving into the urban districts. The central line continued up the route of the Old A20, where the motorway turned into a narrower causeway. Garrus gesture to the maps.

"We're mobilising 65% of combat troops to head towards Bastion. Once all units have RV'd at bastion, there will be a split: This will be a rolling operation: your objectives will be the FOBs and the establishment of secure access ways. From there, we can filter out, secure trapped and stranded survivor pockets."

On the map, the clear white lines branched out into vein-like extrusions.

"As we push further in, our numbers will be strained. This mean securing only fortifiable areas en route, minimum manning without straining reserves. Gawain Battalion will proceed south, under the direction of Warmaster Grunt. Matriarch Rathala will lead Battalion Galahad. Battalion Lancelot will be the central push direct for the city centre. This will be under the Command of Brigadier Lanius."

The Turian looked shocked. Garrus fixed him with a direct gaze. The man nodded slowly and snapped a salute. The Battalion names had, according to one of the human Colonels, come from an old English legend. It gave their mission a slightly more… human element. It'd mean nothing to the Aliens, but then again he had fought hard alongside Kirrahe on Virmire and the Salarian Captain had used Colony names. It was to inspire the humans both going to battle and also those they were going to save. Garrus continued.

"We will be re-establishing extranet links where we can, to support the sensor net. Also, I am going to stress this: every squad on the group needs a Geth augmentee. They can process data much quicker and keep us updated live. The Elcor heavy weapon augmentees will be attached to Lancelot Battalion. In addition, we have ten thousand LOKI mechs to augment the thousand in the central thrust, three thousand each for the flanking manoeuvres. Alongside that we will be fielding five hundred ATLAS mechs and three hundred YMIR mechs. These will act as the forward line, to absorb initial contacts and to reduce casualties amongst the sapients."

He had been determined to not say organics. The Geth were onside now. The plan to bring a Geth vessel to the surface to act as their version of "triage" had reassured Omen. In addition, that they were moving mobile transmitters along each route, as well as the intent to reinforce existing extranet hubs as the columns moved, had helped. In return the Geth had committed over five hundred scout platforms: their flying variants. Each was as sapient as any other geth, being just the hardware that the programs themselves utilised. But they were more movie and would allow the columns to move without having to clear every damn building - the drones could heatscan, the LOKI mechs could secure hub areas, with minimal org- sapient support.

"This is going to be a slow burn engagement, everyone. Ammo lines will be stretched initially, until we can shuttle in resupplies of ammo blocks and heat sinks. We will be utilising the default coolant systems, which means watch your fire. Brief down on this: heat sinks only for prolonged engagements or entrenched areas. Which brings me on to…"

The map zoomed into FOB Inkerman. It showed a mess of collapsed buildings, wrecked streets and cavernous holes in the ground.

"...the potential threat. As you know, the majority of the hostile forces within the London Aye-Oh are splintered groups: packs of husks, isolated brutes. Feral Remnants. We have several pockets of pirates and slaver groups… which seem strange because there isn't a real market yet, but intel indicates they're trying to carve territory for an off planet retreat when we push in. Well, we aren't going to allow that. The fleet has already been informed to monitor their movement and to seize vessels heading off-world. Each battalion commander has been briefed on the entrenched pirate and enemy locations. How you engage and neutralise those are at sub-unit discretion."

The image panned around the streets, giving an estimated map of Reaper Remnant movement.

"What is more concerning is the possibility of a controlling presence. We have an estimated five hundred thousand still-active Reaper Units on the ground alone. Nothing larger the a Harvester as far as we can tell. What we're likely dealing with is a Reaper artefact with failsafes, or that's operating on a loop. So, enemy activity is unpredictable. Expect small arms only, however. Inkerman was only engaged with side arms and assault rifles, no heavy weapon systems. Be aware. Now, you will all be receiving data-packs relating to your assigned regions. I will now hand over to the Quarter-master to brief on the casualty evacuation plan and resupply…"

The briefing rattled on for another hour, timelines being mapped out, suggested LZ points identified, safe spots for regrouping. Eventually, after the Int brief, the communications brief and the civilian contingency plans for civilian evacuation, Garrus stepped forwards again.

"With the numbers we've got, with the strength of support, this will be a damn good fight. It won't be easy, but we have the strength to push through. I fully expect delays: we have contingencies, you're all aware of the support lines, the fire support nodes. With the tried and tested principle of combined arms and good sniper teams, we will get through. Now, final RV before H-hour is 32 hours. I want phase one complete within ninety six hours from the start of the Operation. We need to be making headway into the Urban centre, to begin phase two by then. This will allow us to bring in close air support and reduce reliance on high altitude strikes, minimising collateral damage."

He stood straight, hands clasped behind him.

"To reiterate, we are to secure London, in order to establish a safe haven on the planet for future operations. But not just that - we are doing this to secure the people still trapped, still afraid. I have every faith you will do your people proud. And we will visit Hell on those who tried to destroy us. To your stations, brief your people. Any questions, the HQ staff are on hand."

The room became a hive of activity, officers bustling away to confirm ammunition allocations, droid requisitions, Mantis support schedules - the usual bureaucracy of running an actual military. Amazing how much paperwork there was. Garrus took the opportunity to slip to the side bunk-room, where the staff on rotation were able to grab some much-needed rack time. There was a small canteen in there, with a variety of caffeine's for all chiralities. His omni-tool blipped as he poured himself a shot. Liara's face popped up, a faint frown on her face.

"T'Soni. How's things? you guys still airborne then?"

_"Yes - Kaidan thought it best to do a high altitude sweep, before we brought the gunships back in under our umbrella. They touched down an hour ago, but we're still doing sensor-operations."_

"Anything interesting?"

_"Lots of movement. The recon teams from Inkerman are making slow progress - very cautious."_

"I don't blame them. Only an idiot scout runs ahead."

_"True. But the Reapers have pulled out of that area entirely. They have moved further North."_

"What? Our intel isn't showing…"

_"You are operating off of broken extranet cameras and overflight drones looking at dust and smog. We have an AI with an advanced sensor net. The Reapers appear to be operating in a more unified pattern, at least across a certain area. As they go beyond a certain point… they regress again."_

"Hmmm… can we isolate the area?"

_"No. That is what is strange: it appears to be an area of influence, but it is shifting…"_

"Which means it's…. what, moving?"

Liara nodded, her frown deepening. Garrus swore, then frowned himself, "But that can't be right: we've got no mobile Reapers.. .the big ones I mean. Not even a Destroyer. And we'd notice if they'd excavated a large enough cavern to hide one."

_"It is a mystery. Likely it is indeed an artefact and the indoctrinated are moving it. There are larger clusters of Reapers across the city. Husks and so forth."_

"Yeah. If they get that thing into range of a large group… swarm. Well, we're pushing what we can, but I can't afford to over extend. Not rushing this, otherwise we'll lose more people. You've got clear comms, redirect one of the teams to try to track the movement, see how they're getting around unseen."

_"London does, apparently, have an antiquated subterranean metro network."_

"That'd do it then. Get them to track as best they can in their FOBs area, then flag the last known sighting. Don't want the guys risking themselves. The Reapers could be trying to lure us in. Liara, I need you guys to send an accurate count of refugee camps, identifiable hostile strongholds and any clustered Reaper forces. Transmit to our Intel teams. Then get kaidan to get on with his own duties."

He grinned as Liara pursed her lips. _"I am not a soldier, General Vakarian. I do not take orders."_

"Yeah, well, not if it's me giving them..." He chuckled as Liara flushed slightly, "Aw c'mon, I think we've seen enough crap together to let that one pass. What's the world you guys always used about tali and... Shepard... "Cute"? Anyway, you guys have your mission. And we need to see if there are other Reapers active on the system colonies. Fleet's stretched, doing repairs, giving the planet overwatch. I need you guys mobile."

_"Understood. Good luck, Garrus."_

"You too Liara."

The comm deactivated and he heaved a sigh. He could've used the Normandy: advanced sensors, overwatch, great command and control… but they were one of the fastest ships in the fleet: they would be needed to sweep the asteroid belt, move between the colonies to secure and check for Remnants. And if… when the Relay was working, then it'd be all about ensuring the surrounding systems weren't utterly obliterated. He turned and almost dropped his coffee. Across the room, armour clad and dust stained stood a woman who he thought he'd never see again. Someone who had seen him at his best and worst.

"Sol?"

"_Garrus!_" His sister practically impacted at kinetic barrier shattering speed, "Oh spirits. We thought… and then your face and voice… everywhere!" She leaned back and glared at him - the smoother framing of her mandibles giving her a more focused facial expression, "I barely saw you on the Citadel. And then you vanish again."

"Yeah… relay accident, luckily just threw us into a local system instead. FTL reachable. And you were still on the Citadel… wait. We?"

A cough came from the bunk room doorway. An older Turian entered, almost shuffling. He looked like Garrus, but with a few corners knocked off. He still stood tall, had the blue patterns on his face. He still had the same serious, no nonsense bearing. But the eyes.

"Father."

The man strode forwards and came to a halt in front of Garrus. The man saluted.

"Well done, General."

And then he did something Garrus had not expected. The man bundled him into an embrace. Shocked, he found his own arms wrapping around his father. Solana was stood to one side, smiling.

"Good… good to see you dad."

Artus Vakarian stepped back, hands on his son's shoulders. He managed a nod, then dropped his hands, the familiar formality trying to reassert itself. Garrus relaxed and gestured, "So, uh, like what I've, uh done with the place?"

Sol patted his back, "About time too. Victus did good, it seems. So, you got time?"

Her father glanced at her, "Solana, we shouldn't intrude…"

"Dad," that was both of the siblings. The old man looked from one to the other, then did something unexpected. He laughed. Gesturing to the coffee machine he gave his son a querying look, "May I?"

Garrus nodded dumbly, "Yeah, of course…"

Artus returned with two coffees, one of which he handed to Solana. He took a breath and nodded to his son, "So. Time?"

Garrus smiled, "Yeah. Plenty."


	8. Chapter 8 - Advance!

"Clear!"

Lizzie swung the heavy Revenant in an arc, sweeping the street: it was a heavily modifed variant, hooking to a redundant cooling system on her back. It meant the thing could pour a terrifying amount of metal down range. Above, on a rooftop, Rogila kept her sights trained towards a heaped pile of shattered skycars. The rest of the squad fanned out across the shattered tarmac, weaving between the sparse cover. The LT ducked into a shop doorway and indicated for everyone to go static. Rapidly he keyed up his omni-tool and scrolled through the maps provided. Kasumi crept closer and squatted nearby.

"Right, Goto. Going by the corpses and the relay signal we're tracking, the trail looks like it's heading down to Bank. Possibly even Aldgate."

He grimaced and kasumi sighed, "Bit of a difference, boss."

"Yeah, 750 metres of difference. Without obstacles and buildings. The rate we're going, it'll take us another two hours to get there."

"We're being cautious, I get that."

"No… not just that. You've been up close with Reapers…"

"We all have."

"Yes, but you were there with Shepard. I've heard the rumours: heard you went inside one."

Kasumi shifted, trying to blot that particular memory out.

_Grey shapes scrambling over man-made scaffolding; humans twisted and warped by horrors beyond the galaxy's rim. They had fought their way into a strange, cavernous room. At the end, huge spikes jutted from the walls, a corpse impaled upon each. Garrus and Shepard had exchanged a shuddering glance._

_"Dragon's teeth." Garrus had breathed_

_"Guess this proves where the Geth got the technology," Shepard's voice had been stony, cold._

_Kasumi had spoken up, "It's… like an altar."_

_They had pressed on, the strange curvature of the wall bearing down on them. The feeling of their teeth wanting to clench. As they had rounded a corner, another grey shape had erupted from the shadows. It had crashed into her, bearing her to the ground. Dead, rotting flesh, interwoven with cables and wiring had leered at her as a mouth lunged forwards to tear and rend. The face had vanished in a blur of blue: Garrus had slammed into the side of the creature, lifting it bodily away from her and ramming it against a wall. As she staggered to her feet, a second creature had loomed from the shadows, this one bearing straight for the Turian._

_She didn't even pause to think: her pistol was up and three rounds burst the monster's head open. Garrus, his initial target now a mere mesh of pulped flesh smeared against a wall, had stared at the corpse of his would-be assailant and then back at Kasumi. His sheepish grin was utterly at odds with his bloodied armour._

_"Quite the team you two. Very in sync. Next time, though, avoid the ambush?" Shepard had grinned at them, his snark alleviating some of the pressure that they all knew was there. She and Garrus had shared a look, then followed after the Commander._

"Yeah, I've been on one. Never again."

"I know. We've all seen them up close now. But I need your insight: what should we be looking for?"

She bit her lip and then sighed, "You'll feel it. Back of your skull: some sort of pressure, probably a metallic tingling in your teeth. That sense of unease around Husks? Magnify it by a factor of ten."

"So, when we started getting spooked, we're on the right track?"

"Yeah… but keep an eye on the guys. Reapers exert the field unconsciously, but they can moderate it. As for physical signs: Dragon's teeth, some form of support network infrastructure… they build bases as well, somewhere to store the organics. But it'll be basic, lacking in luxuries. Maybe some terminals, mostly just anything that _doesn't_ look like it belongs."

"Got it. Out of place and creepy. After nearly a year on this planet fighting them, you'd have thought we'd have had better intelligence."

Kasumi just shrugged, her eyes returning to the street. They had found a few corpses: survivors, mostly, the odd armour-clad merc. There had been a soldier amongst them as well, but he was weeks old, a victim of the withdrawal, just another corpse lost in the chaos. They had tagged his body and scanned the dog-tags.

What was strange was that the husks hadn't even attempted a capture. The bodies had just been ripped apart. It was like those nature vids, when a colony of Army Ants advanced. The Reapers had killed, of course, but they always rounded up non-combatants where they could, to process them. Admittedly, the basic Husk wasn't that discerning, but marauders and indoctrinated were at least capable of directed action better than "snarl/bite/shred".

Two hours and they'd only managed about just under a kilometer kilometers. The lieutenant appeared to be thinking the same thing, "We need to pick up the pace. Get up high with Rogilia, make sure our route's clear. I'll keep the squad informed of… of what they need to look out for."

"Gotcha boss-man."

With that she was away, vaulting up the rubble, heading to the sniper. Cat-like, she sprung from rebar to burst rubble, finding handholds with ease, until she was up on a shattered rooftop. Rogilia greeted her with a grin, "Here to babysit?"

"Someone needs to correct your aim."

The Batarian woman laughed, then returned her eye to the scope, "Guess he wants us to overwatched and clear?"

"Got it in one. I'm your spotter."

"Let's get to it then."

The group moved faster now, their two eyes in the sky keeping the roads clear, marking potential hostiles, risks of open areas and damaged crossing points. The invasion had done a serious number of the city: fallen buildings leading to small hills and scared chasms, with structures forming the new terrain. After another half an hour they were halfway down Moorgate towards Bank, the spiritual home of finance in England. Now more a tourist spot of the mistakes of financial institutions of the past, it was, or rather had been, surrounded by high rises. Three of these had nearly collapsed, forming a strange arch on the horizon, with two of the buildings having almost merged after falling together.

Lieutenant called a halt and commed Kasumi, "Goto. We have something."

"What's up?"

_"Lizzie just heard whispers. In her own head."_

Kasumi swallowed and swore. Rogilia shot her a concerned look which the thief waved away. She looked down at the huddled group below, then looked up and down the street: it was clear.

"Nothing obvious… probably one of the buildings."

_"Thought so. Right, clearance it is. Teel, I need you to do a frequency scan - see if we can't find any working electronics. May even get some salvage. Goto, you and Rogila are our fire support and reserve. If we get into trouble, you're either cavalry or the girls with responsibility of telling command where I buggered up."_

"Fully in support of that first option, Sir," That was Rogilia. The sniper swept her Mantis up and down the street, "Still clear. Limited eyes into most of the buildings. Especially the big one… wait. Goto, see that?"

Kasumi brought up her visor, which allowed her to zoom in. She squinted and gasped.

"LT, one of the skyscrapers," and there was something, within one of the buildings looming over the old Bank of England. The structure had a large gash down its side: where it rested against the building next to it, there was enough of a gap to just about see within: there was a faintly noticeable glint of metal: but not the ruined plaststeel-grey of rubble. No, this was the dark blue of something far more alien, "Something looks like it's… inside the building."

_"Can't be a Reaper. That building's only, what a couple of hundred metre's tall. What's left of it I mean. Reapers are at least seven hundred metres."_

"But it could be an artefact."

_"Point taken. See any entrances?"_

Kasumi looked over at Rogilia, who was already peering down the street. She spoke up, "Yeah, spotted an access: Near the corner of the Bank, where it isn't covered by rubble. Damn, surprised the building's still standing. Anyway, looking at the way those towers fell, I can see… yeah a hole in the roof which'd give you good access into the building. Couldn't tell you what it's like inside. There could be better access on the other side if we kept pushing on."

_"Roger that. We'll do a loop first, I need you guys to keep moving, keep us in sight."_

The squad pushed down towards the Bank, heading down a side street, Lothbury, to circle the rubble. The buildings had all come down on top of each other, half collapsing onto the Bank, forming a crude pyramid of sorts, completely blocking the normal roads. The ground-level team managed to press on through the rubble, cutting down Old Jewry street towards Poultry. Here there were cars and trucks piled high, desiccated corpses stacked like firewood and at least fifty Dragon's teeth, arrayed haphazardly across the street. kasumi and Rogilia had cut across fallen rubble and precarious makeshift bridges on the Western side of old Jewry, giving them a good view of the fallen building. As they moved around, kasumi could see that the damage was a lot worse on this side: the whole building being open to the elements, ragged scars sliced into its side. On the ground she spied the Dragon's teeth and ordered a halt.

"Rogilia, see anything?"

"No… wait… up towards the Bank," Where there was once a crossroads there was now a huge hole - at least fifty feet wide. Arrayed around the edge were a dozen husks and a pair of Marauders. One of the grey-skinned monsters turned lazily and let out a howl, its arm raising to point down the street to where the ground team were huddled. Rogilia swore, sighted and fired, dropping the creature, "They're spotted you sir. You've got eleven CC and two ranged moving on your position. Reinforcements possible."

_"Understood. Lizzie, eyes on, suppressing. Klin, Teel, drop any that get close, keep eyes on for flankers. Rog - drop the ranged guys if you can, we'll handle the Husks."_

"Roger," Kasumi brought up her visor and kept an eye out for reinforcements. Below, Lizzie's Revenant hummed to life, rattling out a barrage of led that dropped the closest three husks. Rogilia fired and Kasumi called out, "Adjust left, Marauder dropped to cover, flanking." There was a second crack and Kasumi grinned, "Hostile down."

The Husks were moving like a wave, ducking shots, anticipating. there were only eight husks, though, which became four as the Revenant scythed through them. Lizzie kept up the pressure only ducking into cover as the remaining Marauder, a crude mockery of a Turian, opened fire. However, it had to reveal itself to do so, which meant Rogilia dropped it in one shot. Klin emerged from cover and emptied his shotgun into the face of a closing Husk. Teel and Sharrocks dropped the other two, whilst Lizzie delivered a blow from the butt of her Revenant into the grey-face of the final hostile as it vaulted her cover.

Rogilia flicked her comm, "Road clear. We've got eyes on, suggest you check out the building."

Kasumi and the Batarian moved cautiously, watching their team below as they advanced down the street. They saw the group stop at the hole, peering down. The LT came over the comm: "Not an artillery strike. Looks like they were digging down. It goes right to the old Tube network. No line of sight, no active extranet relays, no live feeds. And no orbital observation either - too much cloud cover and debris in orbit."

The team moved in towards the Bank, vanishing inside through a hole in the wall. Sharrocks came over the comm again, _"Building clear. A few bodies. Some dead Husks. We've got some terminals in here."_ Kasumi had a vid-link appear on her omni tool. She frowned at the strange devices.

"I've seen similar. The Geth use terminals like those. But those look… more organic. And why are they arranged like that?"

_"Scattered? Maybe a stray artillery impact? We'll push on."_

The pair saw the team emerge on the roof of the Bank, through another hole. They clambered up into the mess of steel and concrete where the three buildings had collapsed into each other. She heard the Lieutenant whistle slowly under his breath. Kasumi glanced over at Rogilia, who was propped prone against a supporting strut on the broken building they were occupying.

"What is it boss?"

Her omni tool lit up again, showing her something shocking, terrifying and extremely puzzling, _"I think you best get yourself over here Goto. We'll secure the entrance. I need an expert to tell me what I'm looking at."_

Ten minutes later, She and Rogilia were inside the ruined building, looking up at the thing the Lieutenant had found. The air felt oppressive, there was the taste of metal and blood in the breeze. But it felt stale, old. The same feeling you got on old battlefields, or abandoned concentration camps. Kasumi barely noticed: hidden inside the building was the wrecked and broken shell of a nightmare.

It was a Destroyer, a smaller class of Reaper: 160 metres tall, at least. The machine had been buried as the buildings had fallen, likely a victim of the myriad strikes by the resistance. Trapped by a falling building. Looking at the twisted wreck, she noticed a few things: its limbs, the four "legs", were broken, blasted apart at the joints: had the buildings been a trap? collapsed onto it? Or had they fallen on top during the liberation?

Whatever the cause, it had been cocooned here, trapped and unable to free itself. The monster was at an odd angle, half pressed onto the roof on the Bank, revealing the rear of it's cuttle-fish crest. There were chunks missing from it's outer hull, as if ripped away. cables threaded their way in and out: human made, by the looks of it. As they had moved through the building, she had seen a few terminals still active; human tech. teel and Klin were down in the building itself, trying to work out what was going on. She stared up at the Reaper: it was dead, certainly. There was the absence of the usual forebodingness.

No, that was wrong. Even dead Reapers had an effect. Hell, even some of the Reapers post the Crucible's firing had that same weird feeling. No, this…. this was absence.

"It isn't here…" she could barely say the words. The Lieutenant shot her a quizzical look.

"Say again, Goto? It clearly is. Whopping great Reaper."

"No… no. I mean, look at the tears. Something tore its way_ out_ of that."

"What could tear its way out…"

"The Reaper."

"That is the Reaper."

She looked at him and shook her head, "Not exactly. That's the casing. The vessel. Almost like… like a bio-suit. The Reaper itself is… something different: a massive machine housed inside those things. We found one being built on the Collector base. It looked... human."

The lieutenant shuddered, frowning up at the ruptured metal monster, "So, what, the crab thing is a _suit_?"

"More like a skin. Reapers they… they look like the race that was used to create them. That's how the theory goes. We talked about it a bit on the Crucible project; they get made to look like whatever they were, to make a sort of cultural record. Then they are housed inside the squid-ship thing, wired in. So, even being a Reaper is a nightmare: millions of trapped genetic essences, possibly even some sort of digital consciousness, put into a body which is then itself wired into another body."

"...Jesus…."

Kasumi nodded, studying the wires, "I think this thing was still alive…"

Teel emerged from the hole that led to the building below, "Sir, this place is really really bad."

"Getting that vibe, yes, Teel."

"No, very bad. We found some logs. Mercs found this thing, set up camp here. They were salvaging it and…"

"Became indoctrinated?"

"Yes… they were trying to gut it, had made a start, but then… well, the logs go a bit mad after that."

The lieutenant shook his head, "I can imagine. Anything stick out?"

"Uh, one mentioned that "the god must be free of its flesh, to make flesh anew…?""

Kasumi rolled her eyes "Great, creepy mad god robot." Sharrocks sighed and turned away from the empty horror.

"We need to call this in. Kasumi, we've got an empty Reaper and you're telling me these things have some sort of secondary machine inside? Well, where is it? And what's it trying to do."

Kasumi shrugged, "No idea, maybe rebuild itself? As for the where…" she gave him a meaningful look. the lieutenant looked at the wall, to where the hole in the road had been dug.

"...Damn."

* * *

Garrus sat down at the desk in what, he was just realising, was his office. He'd only ever had an office once before: back at C-Sec. And that had been more a desk he shared with three detectives. More of a terminal really. But now he had reports and responsibilities and things that needed signing.

Being in charge really sucked at times.

But at least he'd managed to sort things out with the family. His father had leapt in to fight, re-enlisting with the Turian military and joining in the reclamation of Earth. Sol had gotten herself transferred to keep an eye on him. The bad side was that they were stuck here, until the Relay was repaired. But at least he'd gotten to see them again. He had remembered that first time he'd been afraid of not seeing his father again: mercenaries bearing down on his hideout, the entirety of Omega's hatred and vengeance descending upon him.

He had called his father. To hear his dad's voice again. To apologise. to at least leave the world knowing that he hadn't gone completely wrong. Artus had told him he hadn't needed to apologise. That it was ok. To come home.

Garrus had choked back the tears then, sighting down the rifle as he had prepared to say his goodbyes. And then he'd seen it: that N7 symbol. The darkness of two years of lost pathways, of trying his damndest had suddenly been lit bright as the light at the end of the tunnel lit up. And he'd managed to thank his father, to tell him the odds had just gotten a lot better. And then, of course a missile had hit him in the face.

_He sat in the forward battery, head leaned back against the bulkead. The datapad blinked in front of him, words not coming as he tried to reply to the email from Sol. he had never been good with words. Oh he loved reading them, but writing? Not his strong suit._

_"[Vexations] with your [scroll of woe]?" He had jerked upright and spotted Kasumi leaning against the entrance to the battery. She looked a little embarrassed. He had just blinked and stayed silent, so she continued, "Sorry, trying to get the words. helps me read… anyway, you ok?"_

_"Uh… yeah... yeah. After that mine…"_

_"Yeah, husks make me want to… be a bit more organic."_

_He chuckled humorlessly, "Yeah. Try to make connections," he waved the pad, "Not doing a great job."_

_"Another sibling issue?"_

_"Yeah. I don't want to worry them. Put them through enough. She won't let up though."_

_"Her brother's sister?"_

_"Worse'n me actually. I'm charming. She's terrifying."_

_"Oh really? Anyway, you'll find a way. She's your sister - have some faith. Imagine how you'd feel if she wasn't letting you see her face."_

_"Ah. So you know about that."_

_"Course I do. Liara and I bonded," Garrus goggled and Kasumi managed to suppress the slightly victorious smile, rolling her eyes instead, "Not that way. No eternity was embraced. But I did manage to sneak a peek at the files. Thought I needed some payback at least."_

_"Hey, you got a story out of it."_

_"...true. Anyway, I wanted to… make a connection. Not a good mission to sit by yourself after."_

_She held up a couple of bottles: Turian and human alcohol. Garrus snorted and gestured to the crates opposite, "Come on in. It's not exactly the Citadel, but it'll do."_

_"Hey, its your element. You always are comfortable with gunnery."_

_"Yeah. A bit of sanctuary. It's the Turian traditionalist in me: can't be too far away from some form of armament. How you holding up? Since the Reaper you haven't exactly been… happy."_

_"Just… the husks. I mean, I can handle mercs, blot out that we're killing people. There's a chance they might surrender, or we can spare them. Droids, no problem - just machinery. No consciousness. But Husks… they just…" Garrus nodded and took the proffered bottle. Kasumi continued, "They were once people. But there is no way, no way at all, that we can rescue them. They just symbolise the complete loss of hope."_

_"Yeah. The Reapers are assholes. They take everything. And they use it to break those around you." He leaned forwards, "Which is why you don't let them. Husks aren't alive anymore. You grant them what peace you can, move forwards and do your best. Then… then grieve for them afterward."_

_Kasumi nodded and Garrus stood up and came to sit beside her. Absently she rested her head on his shoulder, "You make it sound easy."_

_"Nope. I have to tell myself the same thing. Every time," He leaned back and looked down at her, "So, learning Turian… surprising. A bit strange."_

_"Yeah, I uh… I quite like your literature. And I find reading it in the native language gets the, uh, point across well."_

_"True. True. You need to verbalise the clicks more, though. More of a tongue motion."_

_She blushed but kept eye contact for a split second. She then burst out laughing. Garrus frowned, reviewed the sentence then laughed as well. After a good minute or so, they subsided. Settling into companionable silence they drank. Kasumi spoke up again then._

_"So, are you going to see them, after all this?"_

_"Yeah… I think I owe them. Head back to Palaven. Take in some art."_

_"Is that what Turians call it?"_

_"Yes, it is," He gave a faked harrumph and pulled up an image on his omni-tool. It showed a strange construct: broken rings, rotating around one another, suspended by magnetic fields. Among the rings drifted holographic images of yet more rings, flickering in and out of focus. Kasumi stared and nodded appreciatively._

_"I retract my former critique, Mr Vakarian."_

_"Good, the defence rests."_

_Kasumi smiled, then dipped her head, "I'm going to miss you, y'know. All of you, of course... Get so used to working by yourself… it's strange being part of a team again."_

_Garrus gave her an awkward one armed hug, "Going to miss you too, Goto." he managed gruffly, but he knew she wasn't buying it. He looked down at her again, "You should come along. See the place. We can get you some good radiation shields!" Kasumi smiled and garrus rubbed her shoulder, almost unconsciously. He continued, "We're all heading to the Darkstar while at the Citadel - EDI needs to review the IFF before we instal it. Shepard asked her to wait, get some shore leave in, before we head out to Omega and do some dry runs. Plus after that geth base I think he and Tali need some quiet time to sort out "trust issues.""_

_Kasumi grinned, "Yeah, good that he's a master diplomat, got Legion and her to patch things up… but I think that he's going to be getting cold shouldered for a bit."_

_"Don't count on it. He's stubborn. Sets his eyes on something, wham…."_

_"Like with that colossus?"_

_"Yeah… never knew you could do that with a cloaking device… anyway, he's got a direct streak. Just glad those two sorted it out."_

_"Yeah… amazing how long it takes for someone to see…" She trailed off, then stood, finishing her drink off, "So, Darkstar?"_

_"Uh… yeah…"_

_"Good, see you there, eight, Citadel time?"_

_"Yeah, sounds, uh, sounds pretty good…"_

_"Good. And I think you should [honour]/[respect] your [familial female - sibling]. Us girls… we know each other. And if I have faith in you, respect you, then I know your sister will."_

_Garrus watched her go, then noticed a small package on the cargo crate where Kasumi had just been sitting. He opened it up carefully. There was an original, leather bound copy of "Menae's Following". There was a small note inside, written in Turian:_

_"Old memories found_

_Friendships formed among the flame_

_I thank you for the stories."_

Garrus poured over the reports and sighed. Lots to organise. The battle robots might be an issue, but the forward supply teams were already pushing ahead. Shuttles had begun transporting supplies and the ammunition and other variables had already been weighed out and accounted for. The Tomkah's provided by the Krogan, as well as the Firestorm tanks and Mako armoured transports were being prepped at that moment. The Tomkah's would clear the main routes, the Firestorms roving ahead and to the flanks, keeping the routes clear for the column until they hit the edge of the city.

The door hissed open and Zaeed stepped in, "We're good to go, Garrus."

"Great. STG co-operating? The Commandos?"

"Yeah, gave 'em some story about how we killed a bunch of collectors and saved the god damn galaxy. They seemed to fall into line after that." Garrus chuckled and Zaeed leaned against the wall., "So, I see we've got the cages rattled for this lot of pansies. Anything else I need to know?"

"You'll have minimal support. The geth drones and attached geth infiltrators will keep you in comms. I need your mercs, the STG and the Asari auxiliaries running interference. Which means I haven't got a clue what you might run into. Also, if you could not be the only one to get out alive, I'd appreciate it."

Zaeed barked a laugh, "Alright, gotcha. Wouldn't the Asari be better in the bulk of the forces?"

"No, they're commandos: more used to mobile fighting and small engagements. We've got plenty of straight up biotics. And you need faster moving biotic support."

The door hissed open again and one of the human officers entered. he saluted and presented a datapad, "Sir, one of the round recce teams just reported in. They've got a situation. Live Reaper, potentially on the move."

Garrus grasped the datapad and scanned through, a word escaping his lips, "Kasumi…?"

The aide look puzzled, but continued, "They have identified a Destroyer in the Bank area. However, the lieutenant reports complications - components of the machine are missing…"

_He had seen the image flicker up through his omni tool as he patched into Shepard's comm unit, whilst he and Kasumi sheltered behind cover, suppressing a seemingly never ending wave of Collectors. The rest of the team were arrayed around the room, trading fire, bottlenecking the insect-like creatures, turning the room into a killing floor._

_What he was seeing on the screen was horrifying. A huge, black skeleton, shrieking as it swung at them. Shepard bracing himself against the platform, whilst a voice boomed around the Collector base:_

**_I KNOW YOU FEEL THIS. WE ARE YOUR GENETIC DESTINY._**

He glanced over the report in more detail: it was missing its core? But why? Wouldn't that have killed it completely? He looked up at Zaeed.

"Things have changed. We've got a live one, mobile. I need your teams on the ground faster, I need those beach-head areas marked and secured. No telling what a live one might be able to do with the Husks in the city. You, Lieutenant - inform the recon team that they need to proceed with caution. Evac and withdraw. Do not engage if sighted. Withdraw. Am I clear?"

"Sir!" The young man departed. Zaeed leaned forwards, frowning.

"The Goto girl?"

"Part of the recon team. Too far out, can't realistically support them. And it looks like they're heading underground. Damn!" he punched the table, then sagged and scratched the back of his head. Zaeed nodded slowly then grinned.

"Well, we do have the threat of a live Reaper. I think that calls for a bit of a faster mobilisation, don't you? I can get some of the lads to do some deeper route checks. Check the field out." Garrus stared at the old mercenary who just shrugged, "What? I'm not allowed to get a bit romantic. Tell anyone and I'll gut you though. And make sure you can get some air support in. never know how far they might get."

"I can't risk anyone elses life over…"

"Ah hell, Garrus, everyone jack one of us signed up to kill these bastards. We won't go in cocky. But my teams can get closer, move faster. We'll set up safe zones inside. Get rally points established, make sure the incoming forces have got a god damn point to move to. Anyway, like you said: commandos. And if we happen to run into a little Japanese lady, well… chance is a damn fine thing."

With a nod he stood upright and left. Garrus sat back in his chair and reviewed the pad.

Wonderful. Two problems. And he was worried that he wasn't sure which concerned him more.


	9. Chapter 9 - Maw

Kasumi crouched at the edge of the pit and gazed down into the depths. She shuddered, feeling her flesh crawl as she took in the inky darkness. The hole looked like it had been bored almost straight down: here and there pipes jutted from the shattered tarmac and concrete, spewing water or sparks. In the fading light she could see that the tunnel curved at the bottom, probably seventy metres down. There were several tunnels leading off, the hint of…. railtracks?

"Tube station."

She flinched and looked up at the lieutenant. He was frowning again, peering down into the black. She coughed and replied, "Tube… that's the old metro link you had in England?"

"Nope, just London. More a museum piece… well, it was before this all kicked off. After the mag-levs and space-flight, daily commutes became a breeze. Why cram into an underground train? Got shut down in about 2120, then re-opened as a living museum. Trains ran one a day per line. But it was all kept. Just in case."

"In case?"

"Our ancestors used it in World War two. Bomb shelters. Refuge. For a while, after the invasion, the resistance used the tube… but the environment is perfect for husks: dark, cramped. Excellent for close quarters combat. They overwhelmed us down there." He sighed, "And I'm about to drag us down there."

"Yeah. No take-backs?"

The man chuckled and shook his head, "Afraid not. Anyway, we're not going in just yet. Company HQ called in - they're sending a couple of platoons to secure the site and act as rear-guard."

"But… won't we lose the trail?"

"I argued that, but the Major made his case: we charge in and then what? Any guarantees we'll be able to report? And if we find it? We can't engage a full blown Reaper…"

"Shepard did…"

"Yes? Well, don't know if you clocked it, but I'm not bloody Commander Shepard! I am not a man who can single handedly knock out the entire Reaper fleet by glaring at it."

Kasumi stared at the lieutenant. He was suddenly tense. Carefully, the man relaxed. Kasumi held up a hand and did something she didn't do very often. She decided to be sincere.

"Sorry, Dan. That was out of line. Guess I'm used to the usual "lack of plan" approach. I guess that's how Shepard got us through - adrenaline and momentum. He'd be charging down there now, the rest of us providing covering fire…"

"And it'd work… possibly. But he had reserves, a fallback. And that's why we're waiting. If one of you goes down in there, I want a solid chance to retreat. Plus… it's tunnels. Half of them broken and dark. Some caved in. Likely a lot of Reapers. We need full scalings for supplies. We could be down there for a few days."

Kasumi nodded slowly, trying to smile as her flesh began to crawl again: Hours, maybe days, down in the dark with the Reapers. The lieutenant patted her on the shoulder and flashed a reassuring grin.

"Don't worry. We're going in prepped," There was a distant explosion: The cloud cover flashed with mirrored fire. Kasumi stepped backwards, but the lieutenant just grinned, "And there it is: I requested the Company HQ get some artillery strikes on known hotspots. The noise tends to draw the Husks. Should pull a few up from underground."

They began walking back towards the Bank's interior, Kasumi glancing up at the flashes and trying not to flinch at every distant impact. She mused for a moment.

"Except the ones the Reaper's running directly…"

"Good point. But we won't be engaging, remember. And thinned numbers is still thinned numbers. Come on, the guys have secured the building, we've got a an hour before the platoons get here: they're being cautious. I need you to help Teel get those terminals scrubbed," She heard his unease, the strain in his businesslike tone.

"Will do boss. How's Lizzie?"

"A bit spooked. The voices are gone. But keep an eye on her."

The thief looked over at the officer and saw his frown had returned.

"Will do boss. Will do."

* * *

Garrus leaned over the map. It was a challenge: he could see that. Already the first line of VI guided drones had penetrated the city limits, giving a real time view on the ground. The map itself was colour coded, wire-frame buildings and roads appearing in various shades and also at various_ times_. The vast majority of the map was grey, all the buildings standing tall, as they had before the war. Around Maidstone, their RV point, the buildings were green, but diminished, the unoccupied areas appearing as white. Blue and green markers, indicating troops, tanks and miscellaneous units were mobile, several moving between the link road between Ashford and Maidstone - Camp Hope and their new front line.

The Geth had already got a frigate ground side, along with several smaller dropships. He'd seen what those things could do in a support role and made a note to request a couple for close support: nothing like a hovering insectoid vessel dropping shielded walking tanks on your position to make you rethink your assault.

The map zoomed out to show wider London, small isolated islands of green amongst a sea of grey. faint orange lines underlaid the whole map: active extranet sensors and hubs, giving them real-time survey options. On the south eastern section of the city the collection of green and blue was enlarging. He also noted several small trails of green winding their way into the grey mass - the forward scouting elements and a few mech squads. He was proud of that particular jaunt: ATLAS mechs with minor "sentient" support had been deployed already, along with a whole vanguard of heavy mechs. They would be the "point men", soaking up the initial contacts, allowing them to identify holdouts on the fringes, minimising casualties.

Of course, they would have to cycle through more mechs and their reserve supply was limited. Salvage and re-purpose was the idea. Mechs to identify and suppress, then the sentients to allow the clean-up.

Above the map floated the representations of several freighters that the quartermaster's department had dragooned into service: they would be following above the front lines, providing shuttle support and immediate triage. The AA guns would have nil impact on their mass effect fields, plus it would mean casualties could be evac'd a lot quicker. They'd have nearly a million active combat personnel on the ground. Possibly more. The rest of the standing military was scattered across hotspots. The commanders of those zones were scheduled for a conference call in the next hour to discuss "next steps". He was hoping that this action would set the tempo. He already had a blueprint plan laid out. He exhaled and hung his head.

"Damn, Shepard. I wish you were here. You were could at being the guy who talked."

His eye caught a small green blip, on the eastern fringe of "Central" London. It has six unit identifiers. His mandibles flexed and he took a breath. He noted another sixty markers moving in, friendlies. They were being sensible, but slow. Part of him willed them to move quicker, but he knew that once they got there, those six markers were going to vanish.

Something flickered on the map. The area around the six flashed red, for the briefest of moments. Garrus blinked and rubbed his eyes. Not enough coffee? Paranoid.

"Lieutenant Torres, are our IFF trackers working in sector G7F7?"

"Sir, still functioning. Nothing noted in that sector," the lieutenant, sat at a terminal nearby, glanced at his tac-group, several junior soldiers monitoring field reports. They all shrugged. Garrus frowned and turned to the communications desk.

"Get me a link, Lieutenant Sharrocks' team. Now. You, get orbital command online, I need in depth eyes on and fire support. Artillery too."

"Sir, I can relay…"

"NOW!"

* * *

Kasumi was hunkered down by a terminal, Teel fiddling with the electricals nearby. She heard Lieutenant Sharrocks curse as his omni tool flickered.

"Damn interference. Signal is having issues."

Teel looked across, "Could be the Reaper. We know their hulls emit a low frequency. Seems to be a _bosh'tet_ to work around."

Kasumi smiled, remembering happier times, where a very flustered girl had uttered those words. Admittedly it had been when she'd been complaining about yet another new scratch on Shepard's armour.

_"And why haven't you complained to him?"_

_"Ach! You know what he's like. He'll just smile and say "Oh don't worry, they came off worse." Or he'll be charming and distract me by talking and flexing and… and…"_

_"Ok, deep breaths. You need a glass of water? Cold shower? Really really intense night of passion?"_

_The poor Quarian girl was blushing, she knew. She watched as she sagged onto one of the chairs. Kasumi stood and approached as Tali placed her helmet into her hands. The girl had practically whispered._

_"He doesn't even know I exist."_

_Kasumi had sat back and frowned, "Well that's a load of rubbish. He's just a male. And they're ridiculously bad at this…"_

_Tali had perked up a little and cocked her head, "Speaking from experience…?"_

_"Ha. Ha. Ha. Glad someone finds it funny."_

_Tali did a vague impression of Kasumi "Why don't you complain to him?" She giggled, but there was a sniff there, "You need to get him to stop calibrating."_

_Kasumi had blushed herself then, "I have no idea what you mean…."_

_Tali had been about to speak, but her omni tool had flashed. A message. The girl had read through it and practically frozen. After a few moments Kasumi had leaned forwards, concerned by the silence. Tali had waved her away, clearly dazed, "I… Need to go. I need… bad.. Not good."_

_She had practically barged past Garrus who was stood just outside the door, hand raised to knock. Kasumi saw the look of surprise on the man's face. He had looked at Kasumi questioningly. She returned the look blankly and shrugged._

_"Not me! Message. Wait…" She tapped a few keys and frowned, "From the migrant fleet. Can't access her files more'n that, she's too good."_

_Garrus had stared at her, "You can do that?"_

_"Duh, master thief. Clue's in the title."_

_"Uh, ok. Migrant fleet? I think Shepard needs to know."_

_"Won't Kelly tell him?"_

_"Yeah, but I think a bit more of a heads up to… help things?"_

_"Why mister Vakarian, you have a romantic streak?"_

_"Eh, not often. But by the spirits those two need to sort this crap out."_

_Chuckling the Turian had departed. It was only after he was gone that Kasumi realised she hadn't asked why he was there in the first place…_

Lizzie walked into their makeshift temporary command centre: one of the bank's old ornate offices that the would-be looters were using as a staging area. The woman looked ill and rubbed the side of her head. Kasumi headed across, gesturing to Teel to continue with his work. She took a seat near to where the woman was slumped.

"Liz, you ok?"

"No…" the soldier croaked out the words and turned a tear stained face to Kasumi, "I saw him."

"Who?"

"Dad…"

Ah. Hallucinations? But this was London. You ran into everyone here. Best to check, "A survivor? What's he doing here?"

"He's been dead for twelve years."

Crap, "Did he speak, Liz?"

"He screamed… and then… melted. We are going to die here." The woman's voice too on a certain steely cadence. Kasumi looked her in the eye.

"Fight it."

Liz blinked and frowned with confusion, "Wha…. I don't…"

"Fight it. The whispers. The scratchings. You're stronger."

"We are the martyrs… praise him." Liz clamped a hand over her mouth. Kasumi couldn't stop her eyes flicking to the woman's weapon, slung over her shoulder. Liz met her gaze and managed to raise her chin, "I… I've got this. It's just whispers."

The lieutenant was standing now, watching the two women carefully. He commed the rest of the team, "Rogilia, any signs?"

_"No hostiles. I have eyes on the platoons, they're on Polutry, heading up."_

"Keep me informed. We may be about to see some Tangos."

_"Roger. Klin, all clear?"_

_"Street level is clear."_

The lieutenant's omni tool crackled to life again. A familiar voice hissed from within.

_"-arrocks, this is General Vakarian, do you copy?"_

"Got you sir. Charlie Zero reporting in."

_"Roger Charlie Zero. No time for specifics, your current location is not secure. Get to cover, withdraw to the FOB."_

"Roger Sunray, we're clear on the board here sir, no hostiles. Direction?"

_"They're right on top of you…"_

The building creaked. Dust cascaded down from the ceiling. The lieutenant looked up, looked towards the doorway leading to what they were now calling "The crypt" then focused on Kasumi.

"I thought you said it was dead."

"It is! I mean… that's just the shell, a suit of armour…"

"Which is still a sodding great robot… Rogilia, Klin, get the hell out of there, down to street level, we're bugging out…"

The room shook again, followed by a wailing howl that echoed across the city. Lizzie collapsed to the floor and howled in response, "The Herald of his coming! Oh god, god the voices…You won't take me, you won't!"

The woman staggered across the shaking floor to the entrance to the cavernous space. Her weapon was unslung and she began firing into the chamber. The roar of the machine gun echoed throughout. Rogilia came over the comm.

_"Sir, what the hell? Gunfire? I've got no hostiles. The platoon are holding position."_

Garrus interjected, _"I've got a massive target on your position. Get out, we're calling in an orbital strike."_

Kasumi grabbed at the lieutenant's arm forcing herself into the picture, "Garrus.. what the hell is going on?" she saw his expression turn pained, worried, for a brief moment, before it hardened.

_"I need you to run. Lieutenant, get out of there. Evac is en route."_

"Belay that sir, this zone isn't clear. We're moving. Goto, shift."

Kasumi got one last look at his face. There was an expression she hadn't seen for a while. Fear. Oh hell, this was bad. She sprinted to where Lizzie was still firing and clocked her in the side of the head with the butt of her SMG. The girl slumped, Kasumi catching her with a grunt. Teel was there next to her. Between the two of them they staggered into "The Crypt" and headed down the rubble slope heading for the entrance. Behind them they could hear the high pitched whine os something massive moving. A chunk of plasteel crashed into the floor nearby. Klin was stood near the door beckoning them closer.

"By Kalross, that damn thing is moving! Did you insult its mother or something?" Grinning, the Krogan took the unconscious Lizzie from them and slung her over his shoulder. Rogilia appeared, shimmying down a broken pillar. The six sprinted from the building, glancing back as a column of dust erupted from inside.

_"Charlie Zero, this is Alpha one. We 're pinned down… got a good fifty husks just out of some manholes. Holding but we can't reach you… holy HELL."_

Above, part of one of the buildings fell away, crashing into one of the streets beyond. Among the fountaining dust, a familiar, spired shape tried to rise. The monster was having difficulty, though: two of its legs were clearly damage and it was ungainly. The group ducked as one as a lance of red blasted out, arcing across the sky. In the distance they saw it strike and cleave through a tower block, sharing it cleanly and sending masonry tumbling.

"Get to cover!" screamed the lieutenant. The squad sprinted away from the building veering as a second lance sliced down, this time clearly trying to aim a lot closer. It traveled across the street to their right and climbed through a building, blasting it to pieces. Again came the howl. Horribly distorted, it sounded as if the monster was in pain, or confused.

"Where? There is no cover!" shouted Rogilia. She dropped to one knee and raised her rifle, firing off a reaction shot. Down the street, obscured by the drifting dust, something dropped with a nasty cry, "We need something that can hold that off."

The comm came alive again _"You have twenty seconds. We have four dreadnoughts with firing solutions as well as most of our artillery batteries. That city block is getting levelled. Kasumi… I… I'm sorry. Just run, spirits damn it."_

Another channel bleeped, _"Charlie Zero, this is Alpha and Bravo, we're pulling back. I'm sorry sir."_

"Jane, just get the hell away. Keep your people alive. We'll be fine," Sharrocks looked around and cursed, "The pit. Move!"

The group headed to the edge and stumbled to a halt: nearly a sheer drop. A howl made them all turn: Red glowed amid drfting grey dust. The darkness was settling across this dad city and that baleful glow was all Kasumi could see.

"Remember me well… my love."

She closed her eyes. There was a wave of heat, the feeling of something hitting her hard and then darkness.


	10. Sense and Senselessness

_So, that was the Hanar ambassador dealt with. She'd been rather relieved when Shepard had arrived: his usual style of sweeping in and sealing the deal in full effect. The other Spectre, however, had been less welcome. Fun, yes; but more of a risk. She'd been genuinely surprised at his admission of her talents. And it was only later that she had realised that he had quite clearly looked at her as he'd left… despite her cloak._

_So, maybe not entirely unwelcome. There were bigger concerns in this war now. And it was a war. Just as Shepard had warned._

_She'd made it clear: she wasn't joining another suicide mission. She laid out her reasons: she was going to enjoy herself, try to hunker down. But as usual Shepard had burned through all that dissembling, all that nonchalance._

_She had been afraid. Abjectly terrified. That bit with the hanar had pretty much burned up her courage. But somehow that damn Commander managed to sway his steely confidence in her direction. He'd managed to persuade her to join the Crucible project. And he'd also fired that last damn shot straight at her._

_"I don't think it's the Reapers you're running from, Kasumi."_

_She'd mulled that one over for hours. And now, here she was, sat in Afterlife, staring at a drink that she'd ordered an hour ago. Remembering that night, months before. Two people desperately clutching to life before plunging into the unknown. She had found him sat, crossed legged, in the forward battery, incense burning around him. She remembered the conversation._

* * *

_"Never figure you for a candle-lit romantic evening, G…"_

_She had watched the Turian, divested of his usual armour, start at her voice. But he hadn't risen. He had his back to the door, the dim light and the flickering flames casting strange shadows across his crest and naked torso. The chrome-like quality of his skin had reflected the light, giving him a near translucent quality. She had watched him inhale and felt the silence grow between them; her feet had shuffled awkwardly and she had realised that, somehow, without even speaking, the man had gotten the upper hand._

_The upper hand in what she had no clue, but that was how it felt. Garrus was still for a moment longer, then stretched his arms out and pushed himself to his feet. His movements were lithe, quick, almost birdlike. Every inch the warrior. The predator. But his eyes, when they finally turned to face her, were full of fear. When he had spoken, she had been transfixed._

_"It's a preparation ritual. Old. Supposed to, uh, honour the spirits. On Turian ships we're run tight but… we always spend time in prep… this is… well it's important because…" he waved a hand, and looked awkward for a moment. He turned and placed his hands on the console and hung his head for a moment. Kasumi glanced at the dim room, at the strange scrolls unrolled on the console, at the incense burners._

_"But you've never done this before…?"_

_Garrus chuckled, "Yeah… no. We only do this when it's serious. When we want guidance. Only time I ever did this before was when we headed for Ilos."_

_She cocked her head at him, "So, this is pretty heavy then, G?"_

_"More than you know…" he spoke quietly, she barely caught it._

_"Sorry?"_

_"Yeah, yeah. Heavy. We're charging in to rescue everyone. Save the crew. Save the colonists. Stakes seem damn high. I'm just… trying to focus."_

_Kasumi grinned and held up a pair of bottles which she jangled, "Saki and a Turian equivalent. Grabbed them on the Citadel."_

_Garrus flexed his mandibles and sighed, "Thanks, Kas… but.. right now…"_

_She moved fast, closing the gap, her eyes searching his._

_"Right now, we need to take our minds off something pretty serious. You have your rituals, I have mine. But mine aren't working. I can't read. I can't enjoy music. I can't even talk to Tali because she's all flustered about you-know-who."_

_Garrus blinked then chuckled, "Really? What's Shepard doing about it?"_

_"The usual: working. Poor girl's in a tizzy because Mordin fired some details over to her omni-tool."_

_Garrus took the drink from her and leaned back against the console, "Sounds like Mordin. Well, hopefully it'll be worth it. Those two have earned some down time."_

_Kasumi nodded and unscrewed her bottle, "So, talk to me. The ritual. Who's it for?"_

_Garrus shrugged, "For the spirits. Ancestors, great warriors of the past. Calling for guidance and protection, mainly," he cracked open his bottle and took a swig, coughing at the taste, "DAMN, strong stuff…"_

_"Had to find the nearest Turian equivalent!" kasumi took a drag of her own bottle and managed to suppress her own cough, but only just. She flushed a little however, eliciting a snort from Garrus._

_"You know, you're actually kind of... cute when you try to be a hard-ass."_

_"Well, Zaeed's in for a shock later when you turn up at his quarters, if that's what you look for!"_

_Garrus made a mock shudder, then arched an eyebrow, "Well, we do have matching scars… I can see the wedding now…"_

_"With this heat sink, I thee wed!" crowed kasumi, then glanced at her bottle, "Damn, this stuff is stronger'n I thought."_

_"Or you're a lightweight. Always suspected it. Anyway,w e talking about the ritual, or your fantasies?"_

_"Can't we do both…?"_

_Garrus blinked, then coughed himself. Kasumi grinned, "You're cute when you try to be suave."_

_"Har har. Anyway, the ritual is… important. My family isn't the most spiritual. Most Turians aren't, but we honour our ancestors, our spirits. Especially at key times: New year, birthdays, memorials. This… this is one for when you aren't sure which way it's gonna go. It's to help you really get into that zone, where you know what your target is. What your goals are. So that the mission can just get done. Regardless…."_

_"Did it work?"_

_"Ah… no."_

_Kasumi arched an eyebrow and managed a smile as well, but she could feel her mouth going dry, "huh. So, any idea why? I mean we are about to dive through a relay into the centre of the galaxy and… well… I…"_

_Words failed her and she blinked a few times. She ran a hand through her black hair, released from its usual hiding place under her hood. As she looked up she caught Garrus' expression. Half smirk, half wistful gaze._

_"Yeah. Hard to focus when you have no damn clue what to expect. And y'know Kas… I… Well…" the Turian rubbed the back of his neck then splayed his hands in front of him, searching for words. Kasumi watched him as he floundered, "Well, I don't know if I can focus. When we get there. I don't know if I'm… I'm gonna be able to watch you…."_

_She was in front of him now, her lips pressed against his: the heat from his skin almost burning against her. She had felt him freeze, then sighed as his arms wrapped around her. They stood, locked like that for what seemed an eternity. When they broke apart, they were breathing heavily. Garrus swallowed._

_"Well, uh, I suppose that answers question three on my list…"_

_Kasumi laughed softly, "Question three?"_

_"One was going to be 'Are you doing anything later?' two was 'So, what was your routine?' and three was 'Do you feel the same way?' I had this whole speech planned…."_

_She swatted his chest and mock glared at him, "For a sharpshooter you aren't particularly observant…"_

_"It may have escaped your notice… but I'm an alien. Not so good with the human, um, body language. If you were a Turian you'd have most likely presented me with a schedule by now."_

_"Doesn't that kind of… kill the romance?"_

_"Oh you have no idea. Some of those spreadsheets… phew," Garrus ran a hand across his crest in a mock preening way, then grinned, "So, uh…. what was your routine? You mentioned reading…?"_

_Kasumi cleared her throat and managed a few clicks and growls. Garrus blinked and Kasumi fixed him with an unimpressed look, "I learned Turian and you didn't think I was interested…? And the poem didn't tip you off?"_

_"Well, that was only a week ago… and then we had Tuchanka and the crew and…"_

_She reached up and grabbed his good mandible, gently but with firmly, and locked eyes with him, "Garrus…."_

_"Yeah, I kinda… well… I was all set to try and be all noble and try to persuade you that this was just… stress and that we needed to focus and…. well, anyway, you have a habit of breaking my...magrail of consciousness…"_

_"Train of thought?"_

_"That works."_

_"Fine, how was my Turian?"_

_"Direct…."_

_"And?"_

_Garrus tilted his head, "Well… Mordin may have fired something to me as well…."_

* * *

_A shadow fell across the table. She blinked and looked up. Once more her mouth went dry. her heartbeat quickened. She had tried so hard to avoid this moment._

_"This seat taken?" murmured Garrus._

* * *

He stared at the map. Silence had fallen across the operations room as on the holo-display a vast, red image pulled itself clear of digital rubble. IFF markers winked out at its base. He felt his fingers clench. His eyes narrowed, red rimming the edges.

"Take. It. Out."

"But sir, the scout team…."

"Are dead, or will be anyway. Take. It. Down. Now."

The room erupted: orbital batteries came online; Krogan artillery primed; high altitude bombers screeched overhead. On the screen he watched as live feeds flashed up, showing the firestorm. The map showed that the two support platoons had pulled back out of range. The Reaper was trying to get its bearings, but it was too late.

The grid square on the map exploded. High-density rounds, mass accelerated shots and concussion missiles rained in and down onto the damaged Reaper. Even out here, miles away, the blare of the Reaper echoed through the air. He kept his eyes fixed on the projected images as the beast buckled under the sustained fire from land and space artillery. All oh-so-carefully targeted. All so carefully primed to reduce collateral damage. And yet all around the beast buildings became rubble which became dust. Fire blossomed and enveloped the bent and broken monster. With a final wail, the machine toppled over, nothing more than a twisted, two hundred metre tall pile of molten slag.

The room dropped into silence as Garrus turned away from the screen. He looked around, eyes narrowed.

"First blood."

The room began cheering, whoops of "hell yeah!" and "Showed them who's boss!" echoed around. Garrus ignored them and beckoned the comms officer over.

"We're still on schedule Inform the Army HQ's that they are to advance on the designated hour, no rushing. We may have other live Reapers and we need to confirm kills. I don't want any more surprises. I am going off duty: any major issues, comm me. Brigadier Dannett," he indicated a human woman leaving through a data pad across the map, "has command for the moment."

Without waiting for a response, he stalked away, past the ranked desks, through the common room and to the bunk beds. In the darkness he slumped onto a mattress and finally unclenched his fists. An orange glow made him focus on his wrists and he opened his beeping omni-tool. Zaeed's scarred face came up.

_"Hell, Garrus. What was that? We just got airborne. Heading towards Dartford to cut down the river to central when the sky just went red. Damn pilot's spooked and half our flight team nearly crashed. Give us some damn warning…"_

"Kasumi's dead."

Zaeed managed to fix him with a glare even across the vid-com,_ "Like hell she is."_

"I just called down a barrage on a live Reaper, Zaeed. No way she survived. It was either that or let it get her. So… continue as normal. Standard recon. Forget about…" Garrus' head drooped.

_"General, pretty bad line out here… interference. Repeat your last…"_

The Turian looked Zaeed straight in the eye, "That was an ord-"

_"Ah, gotcha back you ugly bastard. All due respect General, that girl came through hell with us. You may be ready to lose another mate but I'm not. So, take that order and ram it,"_ Zaeed's tilted his head back, _"Checking the site is the least we can do. And we're halfway already. Damn pointless to come back now. And if she is dead… well, then I'll bloody well pay my respects. And so will Jessie."_

The merc propped his trust assault rifle on his shoulder: it was old, rusty and battered. But the canny british bugger had got it working and now it was as violent as its owner once again. Garrus flexed his mandibles again and nodded.

"Understood, Zaeed. It is… appreciated."

_"Yeah, strains of command and all that bollocks."_

"You're getting sentimental Zaeed."

_"Tell anyone and I'll scrag you. General or sodding not."_

"Lips are sealed. And if… if she is dead. Make. Them. Pay."

Zaeed nodded and the vid screen flicked off. Garrus leaned back and, finally, after nearly two days of frantic planning and no sleep, collapsed into dreamless slumber.

* * *

**PRAETUS: Happy new year everyone! Apologies for the delay - holiday's, back to work and a fair few changes meant a bit of schedule slip.**

**I'm aiming to keep this one going for completion by mid feb if I can. Maybe quicker!**

As always, feedback on a postcard. If it's a bit clunky, it's because I'm getting my writing arms back.

**Again, happy new year and I look forward to entertaining you all again!**


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